


A Place for Good and Evil

by FrankenSpine



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, Assassination, Betrayal, Dark Past, Depression, Drama, Drug Use, Dubious Consent, F/F, F/M, Gay Sex, Getting Back Together, Good and Evil, Gritty, Heavy Angst, Heroes to Villains, M/M, Mind Manipulation, Multi, Murder, Organized Crime, Past Rape/Non-con, Past Relationship(s), Redemption, Trust Issues, Villains to Heroes, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-29
Updated: 2019-08-02
Packaged: 2020-02-09 13:52:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 20
Words: 25,260
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18639400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FrankenSpine/pseuds/FrankenSpine
Summary: "Life is neither good or evil, but only a place for good and evil." -Marcus Aurelius.Emma Swan has long-since given up her life as the mysterious Red Spectre, the strongest member of the Red Renegades, a dynamic super-team formed to fight against the forces of evil lurking in New York City. Now living in Boston as a lonesome alcoholic, she receives a visit from a boy claiming to be her son, who (somehow) manages to drag her along with him to his hometown, where she finds herself face to face with a dark past she has spent the last ten years trying to forget.*Semi-inspired by Watchmen, Kick Ass, Infinity War/Endgame, Shazam, and just a hint of the Incredibles.*





	1. The Red Spectre

**Author's Note:**

> Needed to write this because I just watched Endgame yesterday (and obviously it was AMAZING), then came home and saw Watchmen for the third time. I'm in a serious mood for a good superhero story. I have the Urge.

It was late one evening when Emma Swan was awoken from a drunken stupor. There she was, passed out on the couch from yet another night spent celebrating with her old friend Jack Daniels, when suddenly, she woke to the sound of someone knocking at the door of her shitty apartment. She squinted her eyes, even in the darkness as she made her way to the door.

She frowned as she opened it, expecting to find someone trying to sell her something, or maybe a Jehovah’s witness. To her, there really wasn’t much of a difference. She instead found herself staring down at a young boy in utter confusion. He couldn’t have been a day over ten.

“What d’you want, kid?” she slurred.

The boy perked up, seemingly-oblivious to her intoxication. “Are you Emma Swan?” he asked. There was a gleam in his eyes. A spark that shone brightly, just as it had in Emma’s eyes. But that was so long ago. So, so long. Yet at the same time, it seemed like just yesterday.

The blonde frowned. “Who’s asking?”

“My name’s Henry,” said the boy, “I’m your son.”

Emma just laughed in his face, and it was then that he got a whiff of the alcohol on her breath. He winced, which only made her laugh harder. Then suddenly, she stopped, just like that, and she snapped at him.

“I don’t have a son. Scram.” Emma went to close the door.

“So, ten years ago, you didn’t give up a baby for adoption?”

Emma froze. She stared at him in shock, but quickly shook her head. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Again, she tried closing the door, but Henry put his hand out, stopping her. “Wait, please,” he begged, “I need your help! It’s an emergency! I need the _Red Spectre—”_

Emma gasped, and her eyes widened in shock. It startled her back into sobriety, if only for a moment. She grabbed the boy by the lapel of his coat and dragged him inside, promptly slamming the door. She bared her teeth at him like a deranged animal.

“Don’t you _ever_ say that again!” she hissed, “Do you hear me?!”

Henry just swallowed, nodding quickly. “Y-Yes, ma’am!”

“Good,” Emma said bitterly, “Now how the hell do you know about that?”

“I— I was looking through some old newspaper clippings! I saw a bunch of articles about the Red Spectre and the other Renegades.”

“Oh, don’t you even get me started!” Emma snapped, “What do you need me for, kid? And don’t pull the ‘mommy’ card again. I’m not your mother. Go home.”

“But you _are_ my mom!” Henry protested, “And I need your help because my adoptive mother is evil! Pure evil!”

“Has she ever hit you?”

“No.”

“Yelled at you?”

“Only once, when I broke a vase. It was an accident.”

Emma shook her head. “Whatever. I don’t care. Where do you live? I’m gonna call you a cab.”

“Can’t you just drive me home?”

Emma laughed. “Are you kidding me? Kid, it’s like nine-thirty, and I’m obviously shit-faced.” She made a face and burped, making Henry wince yet again. She failed to notice or care.

“Well, how am I supposed to get back home?”

“Like I said, just get a cab.”

“I can’t.”

“Why not? Do you have money?”

“Well yeah, but I don’t think anyone will take me all the way back to Storybrooke.”

Emma scoffed at him. _“Storybrooke?_ Are you shitting me?”

“No.”

“Okay. Where exactly is ‘Storybrooke,’ then?” Emma asked, taking another drink.

“Maine.”

Emma nearly spit out her whiskey. Instead, she choked a bit. “The fuck did you just say?”

“I’m from Maine. Storybrooke, Maine.”

“And you expect me to drive you all the way there?”

“Someone’s gonna have to.”

“Jesus Christ.” Emma sighed heavily. “Okay, here’s the deal: you can crash on the couch for the night, but first thing in the morning, we’re leaving and I’m gonna take you back to Stonyrock.”

 _“Storybrooke,”_ Henry corrected.

Emma just waved him off dismissively. “Yeah, whatever.”

Henry frowned. “How did you get like this?” he asked, “You were a hero! You and the Red Renegades!”

Emma scoffed, taking another drink of her whiskey. “You’re right, kid. I _was_ a hero. I gave that shit up years ago. Just drop it already, will ya?”

“No! Please, tell me what happened!”

“I don’t have to tell you shit! Shut up and go to sleep!”

Henry folded his arms. “A lot of people still look up to you, you know. There are comics about you! I even heard they were making a movie!”

Emma snorted. “Comics, huh? Never read ‘em.” She downed the rest of her drink. “And no one’s gonna pull off that role better than _me._ There’s only one Red Spectre. Well, there was, but she’s in retirement.”

“Do you think I could be a Renegade?” asked Henry.

The blonde sighed. “I don’t know, kid. You have any powers?”

“Well, um, I can talk to animals.”

Emma laughed. “You sure you’re not just crazy?”

Henry’s frown deepened. “I’m not crazy! That’s what my mom always says! She has me in therapy.”

“Well, maybe it has something to do with you hearing voices.”

“Come on! You have powers, too! You can make your skin red and turn into dust! And you’re saying _I’m_ the crazy one?!”

“Keep your goddamn voice down!” Emma snapped, “I worked for years to leave that life behind me! I’m not the Red-fucking-Spectre. Not anymore. I’m just Emma now. Got that?”

Henry sighed. “Will you at least tell me what made you quit?”

Emma hesitated. “If I do, will you stop talking?”

“Sure.”

Emma gave a tight smile. “Great.” She tossed the empty bottle in the trash. “Once Upon a Time, there was a stupid girl who thought she could make a difference in the world. That stupid girl fought petty thieves in the streets alongside her stupid little team, but then the stupid girl’s stupid, so-called friend betrayed her and the others. That so-called friend ended up joining the stupid bad-guys, and everything went to shit.”

She turned to head into the bedroom.

“Now go to sleep. We’ve got a long day ahead of us.” She paused for a moment. “Oh, and kid?”

“Yeah?”

“I don’t turn into dust. I turn into _vapor.”_


	2. Storybrooke

The next morning, Emma got dressed, forgoing a shower, and trudged into the kitchen, where she found the kid drinking the orange juice straight out of the carton.

“Hey!” she snapped, snatching it out of his hands. “Don’t fucking do that!” She glared at him for a moment before proceeding to drink the orange juice straight out of the carton.

Henry frowned. “You’re being a hypocrite,” he fussed.

“Yeah? Well it’s _my_ juice,” Emma countered, “and this is _my_ apartment.”

She downed the rest of the juice like a champ and wiped her mouth on her sleeve, tossing the carton in the trash next to the empty bottle of whiskey. She swiped her keys, her phone, and wallet from the counter and stuffed them into her pockets.

“Alright, let’s go.”

“Is it safe for you to drive?”

Emma laughed. _“Drive?_ Hell no! I’m putting you on a bus back to Maine and going to the liquor store for more booze.”

“You’re not very nice, you know,” Henry muttered.

“I’m just honest, kid. No one is ‘nice.’ Not really. Any _generosity_ on humanity’s part is all just a front. We’re selfish creatures, Henry. We don’t give without expecting something in return.”

“That’s horrible.”

“Yeah. Yeah, it is,” said Emma, “but that’s life. Deal with it.”

Henry was quiet for a while, until they reached the bus stop. He looked up at Emma with pleading eyes.

“Can’t you come with me? Please? You don’t have to drive. It’s only a few hours away.”

Emma hesitated for what seemed like an eternity. “Okay. Let’s say I go with you. What happens then?”

“You can fight my mom.”

Emma frowned. _“Excuse me?”_

“She’s your arch-nemesis.”

“I don’t have an _arch-nemesis,”_ said Emma, “Everyone hates me equally.”

“And are you okay with that?” asked Henry.

Emma shrugged. “Don’t really care. I stopped caring about things a long time ago.” She looked at him with mild frustration. “Alright, fine. I’ll take you to your mom, but I’m not fighting anyone. I told you kid, my ‘hero’ days are over.”

After ten minutes (though it felt like much longer), the bus pulled up and Emma reluctantly stepped aboard behind Henry. The driver looked at her expectantly.

“Where to?”

“Does this bus go all the way to Maine?”

“Afraid not. Sorry, Miss. You’ll have to take the next one.”

Emma sighed. “Okay. Come on, kid.”

She led Henry back out onto the sidewalk and they waited another ten minutes before a second bus arrived. Thankfully, this one would take them to Maine, and there were very few people aboard.

Emma paid the bus fare and sat in the seat next to Henry, feeling the instinctive need to shield him from creeps, and soon passed out, as she was still very much hungover. When she awoke, it was to the feeling of him shaking her.

“Huh? What? Where am I?”

“We just got to the bus stop in Maine,” said Henry, “We’ll have to get a ride to Storybrooke, though. It’s still about twenty minutes away. If you’re driving, anyway.”

Emma sighed once more. “Alright, kid. Let’s go.”

She led him out onto the sidewalk and looked around. There was a cab parked nearby. Emma went up and knocked on the glass, startling the driver, who appeared to be playing Candy Crush.

Emma scoffed. _What year does he think this is? 2012?_

The man rolled down the window. “Need a ride?”

“Yeah,” said Emma, “to Storybrooke.”

The man’s face paled. “Storybrooke, huh? Alright. I’ll take you to the town line, but that’s as far as I go.”

Emma frowned. “What? Why?”

“You ever been there before?”

“Nope. Never even heard of it until last night.”

“Oh. Well, let’s just say there are some _strange things_ that go down there.”

“Yeah? What things?” Emma asked as she and Henry climbed into the backseat.

The driver pulled out onto the road. “You’d never believe me,” he said, locking eyes with her in the rearview.

“Try me.”

The driver hesitated. “When I was younger, I used to deliver pizza,” he said, “One night, I drove out there and I kid you not, I saw a _dragon.”_

“Oh yeah? A dragon, huh?”

“Yeah, I swear to God!”

“What kind?”

The driver frowned in confusion. “What _kind?_ I don’t know. I didn’t know there was more than one.”

“Was it a magic dragon?”

Now the man was just bewildered. “Um, maybe?”

A sly smirk crept onto Emma’s lips. “And were you puffing it?”

Suddenly, the driver hit the brakes, turned around and glared at her. “I’m telling you the truth!” he insisted.

“Sure you are,” said Emma, “Will you go, please? I’ve got places to be.”

The driver just huffed and turned back so he was facing the road. “Don’t come crying to me when you see a dragon, lady.”

Emma just laughed and stared out the window at the trees as they zipped by. “I’m no lady.”

They rode on in awkward silence. Twenty minutes was like a breeze. Before she knew it, Emma found that they’d reached the town line. The old sign read _Welcome to Storybrooke._

“This is the end of the line,” said the driver, “I’m not going in there.”

“Well that’s awfully convenient,” Emma muttered.

“Sorry,” the driver said, lying through his teeth. “That’ll be twenty bucks.”

“Twenty?! Are you fucking kidding me? You only drove like five miles!”

“I brought you this far. You should be grateful.”

Emma just glared at him and threw money in his face. “There,” she snapped, “Asshole.”

She and Henry quickly got out of the car and she flipped off the driver as she passed by. He rolled down the window and started shouting at her.

“Hey, bitch! This is only eight bucks!”

Emma threw her arms out and walked backwards. “Yeah? Whatcha gonna do about it? I’m already over the town line! You gonna come and mug me? Or are you too afraid of your stupid _dragon?”_

“You’re a real cunt!”

Emma laughed. “Yeah. You’re right,” she said, “and you’re a greedy piece of shit. You said you used to deliver pizzas. Why’d they fire you? Huh? Did you eat all the pies, fat-ass?”

“Sh-Shut the fuck up!”

“Fuck off!” Emma snapped, “I don’t have time for this shit!” She turned and put a hand on Henry’s shoulder. “Come on, kid. Let’s get this over with already.”

They started walking down the long road into the hidden town.

“I wish you didn’t talk to him that way,” Henry told her, completely red in the face, “He was nice enough to bring us all the way out here.”

“No. Like I told you, kid, people only do things for people when they want something in return. This guy wants money. That was why he did it. No other reason.”

“Still, you didn’t have to make fun of him.”

“He’s insane, kid. I mean, really. A dragon?”

“I’ve seen it, too,” said Henry.

Emma looked at him like he’d grown a second head. “Are you serious?”

“As a heart-attack.”

“Okay, try me. What did it look like?”

“Well, it was probably three-hundred feet tall, its eyes were bright green, and its scales were black.”

Emma laughed. “And where exactly was this ‘dragon?’”

“Flying above the library,” said Henry, “I think that’s where my mom’s evil lair is.”

“Is that right? The _library?”_

“Maybe there’s a secret room or something, I don’t know!”

“Don’t be ridiculous, kid. You were just dreaming.”

“You think it’s crazy that I saw a dragon, and that I can talk to animals, but not that you can turn into vapor?”

“I only believe what I can see,” said Emma.

“Well, can you at least show me?” asked Henry, “Your powers, I mean?”

Emma sighed. “Fine,” she said, “but just this once.”

She rolled up her sleeve to her elbow and her entire forearm transformed from flesh to red, metallic steel. Henry looked on in awe.

“That is so _cool!_ Can I touch it?”

“Not really,” Emma said with a shrug, “and I guess so.”

Henry reached out slowly and placed his hand upon her metallic arm. It was surprisingly-warm to the touch. He met her gaze with a look of pure wonder.

“Can you do the vapor thing?”

Emma gave a faint smile. “Sure, kid.” She held up her hand and her fingers slowly turned to crimson vapor. “You don’t wanna touch that,” she warned, “It’ll burn your skin.”

“Oh. Okay.”

Emma’s fingers became solid once more, and her arm returned to normal. She rolled her sleeve back down and they carried on in silence until they came upon some small shops. Main Street. She looked at the boy expectantly.

“Alright, where do you live?”

Henry hesitated. “Mifflin Street.”

“And your address?”

“108.”

“Great. Thanks for not making this any harder than it has to be, kid.”

It was quiet. Maybe _too_ quiet. Emma tried to tell herself it was just quieter than the city, but her instincts were almost never wrong. Something wasn’t right here, but she couldn’t quite put her finger on it.

They eventually made their way up to the house and Emma was shocked by the sight of it. She looked at Henry incredulously.

“You live in a fucking _mansion?_ Kid, you made it seem like you lived in some dilapidated shack or something! You’ve got it made, you know that? You’re lucky to have a house like this, and a mother that loves you.”

“But she doesn’t!” Henry insisted, “She’s _evil!”_

“Kid, please, don’t you think that’s a little extreme—”

_“Henry?! Where on Earth have you been?!”_

Emma’s heart sank. That voice. She knew that voice. It had haunted her dreams for the past ten years. She looked up to see a brunette in a short, gray dress rushing down the brick path in heels, pulling Henry into a tight embrace. The woman’s face was streaked with dark, murky tears, as they had melded with her mascara.

She was just as beautiful as Emma remembered.

_“La Reina.”_

And it was absolutely infuriating.

The brunette gasped and looked up, finally noticing the blonde’s presence. Her dark eyes widened as they locked with those of the woman in the red jacket.

_“Spectre.”_

Henry stood between the two, glancing back and forth at them. Neither woman moved. They just stared at each other in complete shock, their mouths agape.

“So you _do_ know each other,” he said matter-of-factly.

“Yes,” the brunette breathed, “Henry, go to your room.”

The boy frowned. “But—”

 _“Go,”_ the woman said, more firmly this time.

Henry just sighed and stormed past her, exasperated. She didn’t spare him so much as a glance. Her eyes were on the blonde like those of a hawk. She licked her lips unknowingly.

“So,” she said with a pause, “Look who came crawling back, after all these years. I never thought I would see you again.”

Emma shifted awkwardly, slipping her hands into her pockets. “Likewise,” she said quietly.

“How did he find you?”

Emma shook her head. “No idea. He just showed up at my place last night and somehow convinced me to get on a bus with him.”

“And did he tell you who I was?”

“No. He just kept saying you were evil, and that I was,” Emma paused, swallowing nervously, “that I was his birth mother.”

“Are you?”

“I don’t know,” Emma rasped, “I don’t want this to get any more complicated than it already is. I didn’t come here to fight, if that’s what you’re thinking. I’ll just be on my way.”

“You should stay,” said the brunette, “You came all this way. What’s the harm?”

Emma looked at her incredulously. _“What’s the harm?_ You already know the answer, _Reina.”_

She turned to leave, but the brunette’s angelic voice stopped her. “Emma, wait.”

The blonde turned back with her eyes glistening. _“What?”_

“I think we should talk.”

Emma scoffed. “We both know what happened the last time you wanted to ‘talk.’”

“Please, it’ll be different this time,” the brunette insisted, “Emma, I swear.”

“Don’t,” Emma said firmly.

“Don’t _what?”_

Emma sighed. “Just don’t.”

“Do you have a ride?” asked the brunette.

“No. I’ll get a cab.”

“I want you to stay. At least for a little while. Please? I’d like to catch up.”

“I can’t say the feeling is mutual.”

“And why not, Emma? I distinctly remember you confessing your love for me—”

“I was young and stupid!” Emma snapped, “It’s over, alright! It has been for ten years!”

“We can start again,” the brunette said softly.

“No,” said Emma, “we can’t.”

“And why not? Because you’re afraid?”

Emma glared at her. “Because you’re a monster.”


	3. La Reina Malvada

Emma didn’t feel like walking back to the bus station, so she decided to get a room at the bed and breakfast. She was currently lying on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. Suddenly, a wave of repressed memories came flooding back into her mind. She squeezed her eyes shut to hold back the tears.

_It was ten years ago, in a dark alley on the outskirts of New York. Emma was waiting around apprehensively. She’d been sent there by the Red Raven, her good friend, who had informed her that some kind of drug deal would be going down that night._

_She had her arms folded and her red-and-black wetsuit on. God, she hated wearing that thing. It made her stick out like a sore thumb. But her mother, Red Frost, always insisted it was a good idea. She didn’t hate the suit as much as she hated the team name, the_ Red Renegades, _which (of course) Red Frost had also thought of._

 _She was pulled from her thoughts when she detected movement in her peripheral. She turned to find a dark, shadowy figure approaching her within the pale moonlight. She tightened her fists and her skin became encased in the incredibly durable-yet-flexible metal._ _She glared at the mysterious figure._

_“Who are you?” she asked, with more confidence than she actually felt._

_Rich, sultry laughter echoed through the dark alleyway. “You really don’t know?”_

_“If I did, I wouldn’t be asking!” Emma snapped._

_More laughter. “I’ve heard good things about you, Red Spectre,” came the husky voice. Clearly a woman. Her words practically_ dripped _sex-appeal._ “Many _good things.”_

_“I said, who the hell are you?!”_

_“That isn’t quite what you said, but I see your point. I am the mastermind. The ring-leader of all the city’s villains, right down to the pettiest of thieves. Most of them just don’t realize it. I am the one they call:_ La Reina Malvada.”

_Emma’s eyes widened and her heart sank. “The Evil Queen,” she breathed._

_“Sí,” the Queen purred, “I see you know some_ Español.”

_“Only a little,” said the Red Spectre, “What do you want from me?”_

_The Queen stepped into the light, revealing her face. It was hauntingly-beautiful beneath the light of the moon. It was_ perfect, _like something sculpted by Venus herself. Unlike the Spectre, she wasn’t wearing a mask. Covering up that flawless face, for any reason, would have been the gravest of sins. Her beauty entranced the Spectre, who could do nothing but stand there in stunned silence as a masked figure lunged at the red woman from behind._

_The Red Spectre kicked and struggled a bit, still somewhat in a trance, before it dawned on her that she didn’t need to. She stopped suddenly and her entire body, suit and all, turned to crimson mist, wafting through the chilled air and up onto the rooftop. She reformed her body and turned to run, only to crash right into the Evil Queen. She stumbled backwards, which knocked the wind out of her, and she stared up at the brunette in sheer terror._

_The Queen just smiled faintly at her with those perfect, painted lips. “Did you honestly think it would be_ that easy?”

_“Why are you doing this?” rasped the Spectre, “What do you want?”_

_“To talk.”_

_“A-About what?”_

_“Your role in all of this.”_

_“My role?”_

_The Queen extended a hand to her, which— for one reason or another— she felt compelled to take. And she did. The brunette helped her to her feet, leaving her speechless when pulling her close._

_“Yes,” the Queen murmured, “We have a mutual friend, you and I. This friend of ours tells me you would make a wonderful addition to my inner-circle.”_

_“I’ll never join you,” the Spectre hissed._

_“Never say ‘never,’ my dear,” rasped the brunette, “You may come to change your mind.”_

_“I’m a hero. Not a villain.”_

_“Everyone is the hero in their own story. Keep in mind that not everyone in this city appreciates your ‘service.’ Especially not law enforcement.”_

_“The cops don’t do enough,” the Spectre insisted, “That’s why I started doing this.”_

_The Queen leaned in so that her lips were pressed against the metallic shell of the Spectre’s ear. “Did it ever occur to you that the police are on my side? They do whatever I tell them to, just like the rest of this city. You can have that power, too, Spectre,” the Queen husked, “or should I say,_ Em-ma?”

_The Spectre gasped and attempted to flee in a panic, but the Queen held her tight. “How the fuck do you know my name?!”_

_“Our mutual friend told me all about you.”_

_“What friend?!” Emma demanded._

_“Why, the Red Raven, of course. It was I who told her to send you here. She did well, and so have you, my dear Spectre.”_

_Before Emma could even think to react, the Evil Queen’s lips were meeting hers in a soft kiss. The shock of it all caused her to break concentration, thus resulting in her metallic hide returning to normal._

_“Yes, that’s it,” the Queen coaxed, “It’s time to come out of your shell, Emma.”_

_She kissed the blonde again, and as she did, she reached up to remove the black mask from around the young woman’s sea-green eyes. She smiled in delight, cupping the girl’s pale face in her hands. Emma’s face reddened at the touch, but more so from the Queen’s intense gaze._

_“W-What?” rasped Emma, “Why are you looking at me that way?”_

_“Because,” said the Queen, “you, sweet Emma, are beautiful.”_

_The blonde was visibly taken aback by this. “Me?”_

_“Yes. You.” The Queen kissed her a third time, with a bit more fervor, snaking those strong arms around her waist and holding her close. “Come, my little Spectre. Let us go somewhere a bit quieter, shall we?”_

_Her dark eyes left the blonde entranced. “O-Okay,” Emma breathed._

_The Queen’s smile widened into a catlike grin. “Wonderful.”_

_That night, ten years ago, the Red Spectre— otherwise known as_ Emma Swan— _found herself in a luxurious, candlelit bedroom, being seduced by none other than La Reina Malvada._

And now, ten years later, La Reina Malvada— otherwise known as _Regina Mills—_ found herself in the mediocre motel room of the Red Spectre.

Emma’s eyes nearly burst from her skull as she scrambled off of the hard mattress, desperate to get away from the brunette who had suddenly appeared at the foot of the bed.

“Relax, Emma,” Regina said softly, “I really did want to talk.”

“Yeah right,” Emma snapped, “I’m out of here!”

She turned her body into vapor and disappeared into the vent. Regina watched her with a sigh.

“Oh, Emma. You foolish girl. When will you ever learn?”

_La Reina seduced her alright. Not just in the bedroom, but to the dark side. That night, Emma Swan got a taste of evil, and it was a flavor she came to crave. She hungered for it. Her need grew stronger with each passing day. She stopped responding to the calls of the Renegades. She tried to avoid them as much as possible— especially the Red Raven, whom she knew personally as her childhood friend, Lily Page, though this proved futile._

_As it turned out, Lily’s mother, Mal— infamously known as the Black Dragon— was an elite member of La Reina’s inner-circle. How Emma or her parents hadn’t realized this sooner was a mystery, but it was all out in the open now. Lily was a spy. A traitor. And now, it seemed, so was Emma._

_The Red Spectre and the Red Raven dropped their identities as Red Renegades, cutting all ties with the super-family. Seeing how La Reina had a hand in everything, their crime sprees went unwritten in the papers. As far as anyone knew, the Red Spectre and Red Raven were dead. What did get published, however, was the arrival of two new criminals: the Hellion and Blackstar._

_In exchange for committing crimes, the Hellion found herself in bed with La Reina each night. Being the Queen and all, the brunette was always on top. Emma never expected any less. She didn’t care, really. She just needed the sex like she needed booze. She even got hooked on cocaine, no thanks to La Reina. Sometimes (more times than she liked to admit) she would snort the white powder off of the Queen’s chest, and vice-versa._

_It all came to a screeching halt when Lily talked Emma into trying heroin for the first time. Emma ended up overdosing, and her heart stopped twice on the way to the hospital. Thankfully, she recovered, and vowed never to shoot up again. She stopped doing coke, as well. That was easy compared to giving up the incredible sex with La Reina. But it wasn’t just sex. There was more between them. They both knew it._

_But it couldn’t happen again. Emma finally realized the dangers of the path she had chosen. She was going to start over. She was going to be a better person._

_One rainy night, Emma Swan disappeared from New York and never returned. She left her phone behind, not wanting the Queen to track her with it, and settled down in Boston. She didn’t know if anyone would find her, but she prayed to whoever was listening that they didn’t. It seemed to work. She gave up everything. Except for her good friend Jack Daniels, of course. That, she just couldn’t seem to let go._

_From time to time she would go to the local library and look for any information regarding La Reina, Blackstar, or any of the others, but more often than not, she would leave empty-handed. She eventually got a job at an old drive-in theater, moved into a shitty yet affordable apartment, and started a new life, not as a hero or a villain, but just as herself. Just Emma. And for her, that was enough._

Now, after all these years, here she was, escaping from her dark past through a stuffy vent in the form of crimson vapor. She eventually made it to a vent leading outside and reformed her body into a solid mass. She then brushed herself off and headed for the woods. She didn’t really know where she was going. She just needed to get away from this awful place.

She was running hard and panting heavily. Her heart was pounding in her ears. It was so loud that she never heard the footsteps trailing after her. She never saw the shovel swinging towards the back of her head, and she never felt herself fall, for she was already out before she hit the ground.


	4. Shadows of the Past

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Warning: mention of past rape

Emma awoke with a groan. She slowly opened her eyes, finding herself surrounded by darkness. Pale moonlight flooded the room, though just enough to reveal the dark figure at the end of her bed. She tried to scream, but no sound ever came.

“Emma, it’s me,” said the Queen, “Regina.”

Emma shook her head almost violently, whimpering uncontrollably. She tried to move, but couldn’t. That was when she noticed the shadowy tendrils holding her arms and legs in place. She struggled, but they only grew tighter. Tears welled up in her eyes as they locked with the Queen’s.

“Please,” she sobbed, “Let me go. Don’t do this to me.”

The brunette was silent for a moment, just watching the frightened blonde, but with a mere wave of her hand, the dark tendrils fell away.

“I told you I wanted to talk, Emma, but you wouldn’t listen,” said Regina, “Now you will, whether you like it or not.”

She moved to sit on the edge of the bed and reached out to caress Emma’s cheek, gently wiping away a tear with her thumb. She studied Emma’s face carefully, offering a soft smile to reassure the younger woman.

“You don’t know how terrified I was when you disappeared,” she said quietly, “Despite what you might think, Emma, I loved you. I truly did. I wasn’t making fun of you for feeling that way about me. I was trying to tell you I felt that way, too. I still do. There isn’t a day that’s gone by where I haven’t thought of you.” Now she had tears in her eyes as well. “I thought you were _dead,_ Emma. When I found out you had overdosed, I nearly lost it. I searched every damn inch of that city, but never could find you. Why didn’t you reach out to me?”

Emma sat up quickly, baring her teeth at the brunette in rage. “Did you ever stop to think that maybe I wanted nothing to do with you? You ruined my life, _La Reina.”_

 _“I_ ruined _your_ life?” Regina asked incredulously, “I would have given you _everything,_ Emma! You’re the reason I left that life behind! After you disappeared, I left New York and came here with my inner-circle. I’ve done my best to lead a good, honest life, my little Hellion, but it’s been difficult without you. You complete me in ways not even _I_ truly understand.” She now held Emma’s face with both hands. “Please, Emma. Give me another chance. It’s been ten years. I’m a different person now, just as you are.”

Emma was quiet for a moment. “So you’re saying you didn’t send the Warlock’s son after me?” Her words dripped with venom.

“What? No. I had no idea where you went, or if you were even alive. Even if I did, I wouldn’t have sent anyone after you. I’d have come to you myself.”

“Would you have killed me?”

 _“Never.”_ Regina’s words rang true, as much as Emma didn’t want them to.

“He raped me,” Emma whispered, no longer meeting the brunette’s gaze.

Regina’s eyes widened in horror. “What did you say?”

“The Warlock’s son, Mage. He found me in Boston, and he— he raped me. I always just assumed you were the one who sent him, as payback or something.”

“Emma, no,” rasped the Queen, “I would never do such a thing. Especially not to you. I swear upon my own grave that I did not— and _would never—_ do that to you.”

She fell silent, struggling to process this vile information. She felt physically ill, just thinking about it. Her eyes met Emma’s with a look of remorse and pain.

“Is that how Henry—”

She couldn’t bring herself to finish that sentence.

Emma nodded anyhow. “Yes,” the blonde said quietly, “I knew I wasn’t ready to have a kid, and I couldn’t raise one under those circumstances, but I wouldn’t even _consider_ the alternative. I’ve taken lives, Regina. It still haunts me, even now, but the one life I could never take was my baby’s.”

The brunette gave a small nod. “For which I am forever grateful,” she said, “If I had known you were Henry’s birth-mother, I would have attempted to contact you sooner. I despise that man for what he did to you, but I would be lying if I said I didn’t enjoy having Henry. I’ve cherished every moment with him, up until he started saying he hated me. It started not long after he found out he was adopted. That was just over a month ago.”

“Do you love him, Regina?”

“Of course I do,” the brunette murmured. A faint smile graced her lips. “More than he can ever know.” She took hold of Emma’s hands. “I can’t have children of my own,” she said, “Thank you for the many gifts you’ve given me, Emma.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” said Emma, “but I can’t stay here. I need to get back to Boston tomorrow.”

“Will you let me come with you? For a night, at least? I can transport us there.”

Emma was noticeably reluctant. “I don’t know,” she said quietly, “My place is kind of a mess.”

Regina shook her head. “You know I don’t care about that.”

“Okay,” said Emma, “I just need to sleep now.”

“Of course.”

Emma lied down slowly and closed her eyes, curling up in a fetal position upon the bed. In a moment of uncertainty, Regina chose to lie down beside her so that they were spooning and brought an arm around the blonde’s midriff, holding her close. The brunette then proceeded to kiss the space behind her ear, which caused her to shudder uncontrollably.

_“Sweet dreams, Emma.”_


	5. Spill the Wine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Warning: murder and drug-use.
> 
> Chapter title is a reference to the song 'Spill the Wine' by Eric Burdon & War.

_The Hellion, clad all in black, crept through the dark alley alongside Blackstar. La Reina had sent them out to_ pay a visit _to the home of a man named Sidney Glass, who had supposedly been spreading rumors about their true identities._

_Normally, rumors like these held no ground, but Sidney Glass was a reporter for the New York Times. La Reina had an inside man working there as well, so the news got back to her rather quickly. It wasn’t like anyone actually read anything they published, but La Reina couldn’t take that risk._

_They went in through the back. The Hellion turned into vapor to slip into Sidney’s house undetected, and reformed to unlock the door. She let Blackstar inside and close the door so as to not draw attention to themselves. They headed upstairs in eerie silence, found the master bedroom, and gagged the sniveling little man. He tried to plead for his life, but his words were muffled, and even if they hadn’t been, his assailants wouldn’t have listened._

_There was a hooded figure, dressed all in black, save for the Japanese Oni mask, which looked to have been painted entirely with blood. Small, red horns protruded from the top. The mask appeared to be grinning devilishly, yet its brows were curved in a way that made it seem miserable. It was strange. It was terrifying. Had the situation been different, Sidney might have found it fascinating._

_But then the figure behind the peculiar mask suddenly transformed into a sort of crimson fog, leaving Sidney petrified, and went up into his nostrils. His screams of agony were barely muffled by the gag. He was suffering in the worst way possible. The vapor was, for the lack of a better word,_ toxic. _It was eating away at his flesh like acid, burning him from the inside-out. It didn’t take him long to succumb to his wounds. Once he did, the vapor wafted back into the air and reformed into the masked assailant._

 _Blackstar snapped a photo of Sidney’s mutilated body to present to La Reina. The Hellion, on the other hand, just stared at him for a moment, not saying a word._ _Blackstar grabbed her shoulder, snapping her out of her trance._

_“Come on,” said Blackstar, “Let’s get the fuck out of here.”_

_“Right,” the Hellion said reluctantly, “Sorry.”_

_It wasn’t her first kill, but it was certainly the most brutal. It made her physically sick, just thinking about it, but it was what La Reina had wanted, and for La Reina, she would do anything._

_When she and Blackstar arrived back at La Reina’s mansion out in the hills, they were each rewarded handsomely. Blackstar vanished, probably heading home for the night, but the Hellion stayed behind and before she knew it, she was in La Reina’s bed, snorting cocaine off of the woman’s bare chest. Needless to say, she was hooked, but she kept telling herself that she could quit whenever she wanted. La Reina stroked her hair gently as she felt the rush hit her all at once._

_“Enjoying yourself, my little Hellion?”_

_The Hellion’s eyes were dilated. “Yes, Reina.”_

_The brunette cupped her face gently with both hands, and they shared a soft kiss. “I’m glad,” said the older woman, “Tell me something, dear. Do you ever feel that I am forcing you into things you don’t wish to do? Be honest. I will not tolerate lying.”_

_“I don’t enjoy taking lives,” said the blonde, “but I do it because you ask me to, Reina.”_

_“Would you do anything for me,_ Em-ma?”

_Emma didn’t hesitate. “Yes.”_

_La Reina smiled warmly at the blonde. “Wonderful,” she purred, “Now then, why don’t you take that pretty head of yours and put it between my thighs, hm?”_

_“Yes, Reina.”_

_The dark-haired beauty’s lips twitched with a smirk as she closed her eyes and leaned her head back onto the pillows. She dug her perfectly-manicured nails into Emma’s scalp, feeling the blonde’s tongue where she needed it most. She let out a low, uncontrollable moan of utter bliss._

_“That’s it, my little Hellion. Yes. Right there.”_

Emma’s eyes snapped open and she found herself alone in bed. She was still fully-clothed. La Reina was nowhere in sight. It took Emma a moment or two to realize she was no longer dreaming. But it hadn’t just been a dream. It was a memory. A memory she’d spent ten years trying to drown with booze.

She got up slowly and slipped her feet into her black boots before throwing on her signature red jacket. She glanced at the clock. _8:15._ Still plenty early. She decided to take a walk. Hopefully it would help get her mind off of things— and of course, a little music never hurt.

She pulled her headphones out of her jacket’s inner-pocket and plugged them into her phone. Putting the headphones in, she turned up the volume and walked out onto the sidewalk, perfectly in-time with the beat.

_‘I was once out strolling, one very hot summer day, when I thought I’d lay myself down to rest, in a big field of tall grass. I lay there in the sun, and felt it caressing my face, as I fell asleep, and dreamed. I dreamed I was in a Hollywood movie, and that I was the star of the movie. This really blew my mind. The fact that me, an overfed, long-haired, leaping gnome, should be the star of a Hollywood movie! Hmm.’_

Emma couldn’t help but grin a little as she felt the sun on her skin and the wind in her hair.

_‘But there I was. Hmm. I was taken to a place. The Hall of the Mountain King. I stood high upon the mountaintop. Naked to the world. In front of every kind of girl. There was long ones, tall ones, short ones, brown ones, black ones, round ones, big ones, crazy ones. Out of the middle, came a lady. She whispered in my ear, something crazy. She said—’_

_“Emma? Is that you?”_

Emma jumped, jerking her headphones out quickly and turning to find herself staring into the familiar, bearded face of the man she’d once been proud to call her friend.

 _“Huntsman,”_ she rasped.

The man just smiled faintly, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. He looked tired, but not from a lack of sleep. Just tired of life. Kind of like her.

“It’s just Graham, now,” said the man with his smooth, Irish accent, “Well, _Sheriff_ Graham.”

 _“You’re_ the Sheriff?”

The man let out a soft chuckle. “Hey, don't act so surprised.  People change, you know.” He scratched the back of his head awkwardly. “So, um, what brings you to Storybrooke? Looking to catch up?”

“No,” Emma said firmly, “I didn’t realize any of you were living here. I just came to drop off the kid.”

“The kid? You mean Henry?”

“That’s the one.”

“Then I suppose you’ve been in touch with—”

 _“Yep.”_ Emma stuffed her hands into her pockets, not wishing to meet the bearded man’s gaze.

“She really loves you, you know. You were her favorite. She thought you were dead. We all did, Emma,” Graham told her, “and Lily still feels guilty about what happened. She never meant for you to—”

“I’m sure she didn’t,” Emma said bitterly, “but it happened, nonetheless. It’s over. Done. Just forget about it.”

“It’s kind of hard to forget about something like that.”

Emma just sighed heavily and turned away. Graham followed after her, much to her displeasure.

“Please, Emma, can we take a walk? I’d like to catch up.”

“Would it be too much to ask that I be left alone?”

Graham sighed. “No,” he said softly, “Just know that if you change your mind, you can find me down at the station. Well, that or the Rabbit Hole.”

“The Rabbit Hole?”

“The bar,” said Graham, “It’s a bit of a dive, but the beer’s good.”

Emma laughed, but there was little humor in it. “That’s all that counts, right?”

Graham gave a tight smile. “Right,” he said, “Well, it was good to see you again, Emma. Good to know you’re still kicking.”

The blonde hesitated a moment before looking him in the eye. “Yeah. You, too, Huntsman.”

She turned away, put her headphones back in, and rewound her music so that she could continue her morning walk in peace.

_‘— Spill the wine, dig that girl. Spill the wine, dig that girl. Spill the wine, dig that girl. Spill the wine. Dig that girl. I could feel hot flames of fire roaring at my back, as she disappeared, but soon, she returned. In her hand was a bottle of wine. In the other, a glass. She poured some of the wine from the bottle into the glass, and raised it to her lips, and just before she drank it, she said: Take the wine! Dig that girl! Spill the wine! Dig that girl! Spill the wine! Dig that girl! Come one, come on. Spill the wine! Dig that girl! Dig that girl! Yeah! It’s all good! You’ve gotta do it! Spill that wine! Spill that wine—’_

Suddenly the music stopped, and Emma huffed as she pulled her phone out of her pocket. It needed to be charged.

“Fuck!” she hissed, exasperated, “This is _not_ my day.”

She stuffed her headphones back into her jacket and put her phone away, then realized just how hungry she was and decided her best bet was to get some breakfast at the little diner in front of the inn. So she turned around and headed back towards the diner, but not the way she came. The last thing she needed was to run into the Huntsman again.

Much to her chagrin, his face was the first she saw upon entering the diner. His eyes lit up when he saw her and he smiled, lifting up his steaming mug as if toasting her arrival. Emma avoided his gaze and went to sit in the booth in the very back, turned away from him and everyone else. She buried her nose in a menu and looked over all the options, but found that she was no longer in the mood for breakfast.

As if things couldn’t possibly get any worse, Emma finally set her menu down and nearly jumped out of her seat when she saw Graham sitting across from her with a seemingly-friendly smile.

“You should order the steak and eggs,” he said, “My treat.”

Emma sighed. “Sure. Why not?”

If there was a God, he must have really hated her.


	6. Warlock

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter, but important.

The old man was sitting in his chair before the fireplace, enjoying the sound of smooth jazz on his old record player. Suddenly, the music stopped, and everything around him seemed to slow down. The fire within the mantel continued to burn, but the flames ceased to move, ceased to crackle. It was like someone had taken a snapshot of heat and placed it there to confuse him. The room grew dark. _Too_ dark. He was not afraid, but rather, curious.

“What do you want, Dearie?” he asked quietly, still eyeing the frozen fire.

 _“What the_ hell _did you do, Warlock?”_ The Queen’s words dripped with venom.

A sly smirk graced the old man’s lips. “I haven’t heard that name in a long time.”

_“Answer me!”_

“Apologies, Your Majesty. I’m afraid I don’t understand what you mean.”

 _“You know_ exactly _what I mean, you monster!”_

“Care to enlighten me?”

_“You sent that spawn of yours after the Spectre!”_

“That’s quite an accusation,” said the old man, “Why don’t you say it to my face?”

A terrifying, shadowy void opened up in front of him, and out stepped a beautiful brunette.

“Why, Your Majesty, you haven’t aged a day.”

The woman glared at him. “Save it,” she said bitterly, “I don’t have time for your games, Warlock.”

“I’m in retirement,” said the old man, “Just call me Gold.”

The brunette gritted her teeth as she locked eyes with the sly old man. “Did you, or did you not, send your wicked son to rape Emma?”

“Emma? I’m afraid I don’t know anyone by that name.”

_“Liar!”_

The Queen backhanded him, but he remained unfazed. He just smiled faintly, watching her every move like a hawk. “You’ll have to jog my memory.”

“The Red Spectre! The _Hellion.”_

“Ah, of course. Her. Yes, I remember her now,” said Gold, “but I never sent my son after her.”

“Then who the hell did?!”

“I’m afraid I can’t help you, Your Majesty, even if I wanted to,” said the old man, “which I don’t. Now, if you don’t mind, I would like to be left alone. My wife, Milah, passed away two days ago. I need time to think.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

Gold’s eye twitched. “No you’re not.”

“Will you at least tell me where I can find him?”

Now Gold had a hand gripping her throat, lifting her into the air as he sneered at her. He was beyond livid. “I swear to you, Regina, if you go anywhere near my son, you will never see that boy of yours ever again. Do you understand?”

Dark tendrils coiled themselves around his arms and legs, jerking him back. Regina gasped for breath the second he let go, glaring hateful daggers at him.

“Just tell me the truth, Gold. That’s all I want.”

The man bared his teeth in anger as he pushed himself up off the ground. “If I do, you must promise to stay away from my son. Forever.”

“Fine,” Regina said bitterly, “Now tell me.”

“Someone else sent him. Someone far more powerful than you or I combined.”

Regina’s heartbeat quickened. “You mean—”

She couldn’t bring herself to say it. The old man just gave her a knowing look, nodding slowly. “Yes,” he said quietly. He paused a moment. “Now get out.”

The brunette stepped back through the dark vortex, glaring at him, and the second it closed, everything in the room went back to normal. The fire continued to dance and crackle, and the clocks resumed their steady ticking. The old man went over to his antique phone on the wall near the front door and dialed a number. It took only a second for the signal to go through.

_“Yes?”_

“It’s the Warlock,” he said, “La Reina is onto us.”


	7. The Last Laugh

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Double update.*
> 
> Warning: murder/implied rape

_The Hellion was wary when La Reina decided to send her out with the Huntsman for the first time. They were to break into the home of a private-detective, Nick Branson, and plant incriminating evidence all throughout the place. Branson had been investigating the suspicious death of Sidney Glass, and La Reina wasn’t about to let him discover the truth._

_The two criminals did as they were instructed, though both of them were admittedly-uncomfortable while planting the evidence that the police would discover later that night._

_And that was precisely what happened._

_The Hellion called the police, then she and the Huntsman watched from a safe distance as Nick Branson arrived home from his office. Not even fifteen minutes later, the Boys in Blue showed up, lights flashing and sirens blaring, and had the place surrounded. Detective Nick Branson was immediately arrested for the possession of heroin, ecstasy, and child pornography._

_He was sentenced to twenty years in prison, but he didn’t last more than a week in that hellhole. Many of the other inmates had been put there because of him, and their hatred for him only grew when they discovered the reason for his arrest. Even the hardest of criminals— rapists, murderers, and drug-dealers— loathed ‘his kind,’ and they all proceeded to take turns shanking him, among other unspeakable things._

_Former-Detective Nick Branson was found dead in his cell just six days after his imprisonment, and there was seemingly-no connection between his death and that of Sidney Glass. No one would ever suspect that La Reina had anything to do with this._

_On the night Branson was arrested, the Hellion and the Huntsman returned to La Reina’s mansion and received praise for their success, as well as their ability to work together. They seemed to get along quite well, and so La Reina decided to make them partners. Where the Hellion went, the Huntsman followed, and vice-versa._

_As always, once the Hellion removed her mask, she was just Emma again, and of course, she found herself in bed with La Reina. Before she knew it, the brunette was kissing her hungrily in a show of dominance. La Reina never failed to remind her just who was in control. Emma knew that. She craved the woman’s praise above all else. What she failed to realize was that La Reina’s effect on her was no coincidence._

_La Reina was a dark seductress, possessing the ability to manipulate shadows, create portals in the fabric of reality, and persuade people to do her bidding. The latter was involuntary. People did what she asked, whether she wanted them to or not, so she often had to choose her words carefully. She couldn’t help but wonder if Emma’s feelings for her were real, or if it was all just her power, making the young woman think and act a certain way. No one seemed to realize that their devotion to her was not entirely genuine. They truly believed that they had free-will, and that their actions were entirely voluntary._

_But like everything else, it was all just an illusion._

Regina awoke as sunlight flooded in through the window, shining directly into her face. She groaned in frustration and turned away, but was unable to go back to sleep. She decided to just get ready instead. She pulled on a black silk robe, tied securely at the waist, and headed downstairs to the kitchen.

She stared blankly out the window above the sink as she prepared coffee, just as she did every other morning. She was in no rush, as she’d decided to take the day off. Oh, how she loved being the Mayor. She still had control, yet it was all perfectly legal. More importantly, it was safe. Quiet. Peaceful, even. Storybrooke was a place for her to start over. She wouldn’t go so far as to call herself a hero, but she liked to think she was no longer a villain.

Once the coffee was ready, she poured some into her mug and sat down at the table to enjoy the steaming beverage at the table. She wasn’t sure how much time had passed, but by the time she finished her coffee, Henry was coming down the stairs. He rubbed his tired eyes as he entered the kitchen.

Regina smiled warmly at him. “Good morning, Henry.”

“Morning,” he mumbled, avoiding her gaze.

Her smile wavered a bit, but she managed to retain it. “So, how did you sleep, dear?”

Henry just shrugged. “Good, I guess.”

“Are you hungry? I can fix you some pancakes, if you like.”

“That’s okay,” said Henry, “I don’t feel so good.”

Regina immediately went over to him and put a hand on his forehead. “Oh, Henry, are you running a fever?”

The second she touched him, he jerked away and scowled at her. “Don’t touch me,” he said bitterly, turning and rushing back upstairs towards his room.

Regina just gaped at him for a moment, dumbfounded, but then she put her hands on her hips and frowned.

“Henry!” she reprimanded, “Don’t you _ever_ speak to me that way again, young man! And no running in the house! You know better!”

She received no response. Irritated, she headed up the stairs and made her way to Henry’s bedroom. She tried to open the door, but found it locked. This only heightened her frustration.

“Henry, what have I told you about locking this door?”

Again, there was no response. With a sigh, Regina stepped into a dark vortex and reemerged on the other side of the door, unlocking it as she went to speak to her son about his behavior.

“Henry, you can’t keep—”

She froze when she saw the window was open, and a makeshift chain of bedsheets was hanging out. She gasped and rushed to stick her head out the window, only to hear the door slam shut behind her. She turned quickly and threw the door open, only to find Henry darting out the front door. She frowned and opened a portal to the lawn, promptly pulling the boy into her arms. He kicked and squirmed, but she refused to let him go.

“Why are you doing this, Henry?!” she asked, exasperated, “Why do you keep trying to run away?!”

“Because you’re evil!” the boy shouted, “And I hate you!”

Tears welled up in Regina’s eyes. “Henry Daniel Mills! How can you say something like that? I’m your mother!”

“No you’re not!” Henry snapped, “Emma is!”

“She didn’t raise you, Henry! _I did!_ I am your mother, and you have to do what I tell you!”

“I don’t have to listen to you! You’re a villain, and she’s a hero! She’s gonna stop you!”

Regina gritted her teeth in anger. “You don’t know what you’re talking about, Henry,” she said, doing everything she could to keep it together, “Go to your room, young man. Now. You and I are going to have a talk.”

Henry glared at her, and as much as he wanted to just run from her, he was suddenly overcome with the need to obey her. He supposed it was just a trick to make him feel guilty. He wasn’t sure how, exactly, but he was certain she was controlling him somehow.

As he turned to go back into the house, he spotted a couple of birds up in the tree nearby and a sly smirk spread onto his face. The second he stepped inside, the two birds flew off of the branch and they each bombarded the appalled brunette with excrement.

_“HENRY DANIEL MILLS!”_

In the end, Henry had the last laugh.


	8. Subtle Manipulation

Though she was reluctant at first, Emma wound up spending most of the day with Graham. It was difficult for her to see him as anything other than the Huntsman, but she was slowly getting used to it. He asked her to ride around with him in the police cruiser to catch criminals. They mainly dealt with parking violations and a few speeding tickets, but Emma had to admit, they actually made a pretty good team, only this time, they were _upholding_ the law, not breaking it.

“So,” said Graham, “where’ve you been living all this time?”

“Boston. Speaking of which, I really should be getting back.”

“Well, if you need a ride, I’ll be more than happy to take you.”

Emma shook her head. “You don’t have to do that.”

“No,” said the bearded man, “but I think I should. I feel obligated.”

“It’s okay, Graham, really.”

“Please,” said the Sheriff, “I want us to be friends again, Emma. Out of the whole group, I always liked you the most.”

“Sorry, Graham, I don’t swing that way.”

The Sheriff chuckled. “I meant as a friend,” he said, “You’re beautiful, Emma, there’s no denying that, but my heart belongs to someone else.”

“Yeah? And who might that be?”

“Someone tall, dark, and handsome.”

Emma’s eyes widened in realization. “You don’t mean— _the_ _Left Hook?_ Graham, really?”

The Sheriff shrugged. “What can I say? I’m an Irishman. He’s an Irishman. So obviously, we like to drink, and we’re both ruggedly-handsome. Let’s just say that what he lacks in his left hand, he certainly makes up for with the right—”

Emma squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head. “Woah, woah, woah, okay, I _really_ don’t need that image in my head. Thanks for that, Graham.”

Again, Graham laughed. “Sorry.”

“So, I take it he’s hiding out somewhere around here, too?”

“The docks,” said Graham, “He works at the cannery, and he’s taken up fishing. He really seems to like his job, so I’m happy if he’s happy, but the only downside is that he always reeks of fish. I make him take a shower before he comes over.”

“You two don’t live together?”

“No.” Graham’s voice was softer this time. He almost sounded somber. “Aside from the Mayor, you’re the only one who knows.”

“The Mayor?”

“Regina.”

Emma’s eyes widened. “Wait, _Regina_ is the Mayor?”

“Didn’t she tell you?”

“No. It never came up,” Emma said bitterly, “Tell me it was a fair election.”

“Of course,” said Graham, “I promise, there was no collusion with the Russians. Despite what you might think, she really has been trying to lead an honest life. She wants to be a good role-model for Henry. She’s a great leader, and an even greater person.”

“I used to think that,” said Emma, “but after I left New York, my mind sort of became clear, like I was in some kind of fog. I realized that all the times we had sex, I thought I wanted it, but at the same time, I didn’t. That’s the only way I can describe it.”

Graham was quiet for a moment. He stared blankly at the road ahead. “That’s the power of persuasion.”

Emma frowned in confusion. “Huh?”

“She can convince people to do her bidding.”

 _“What?”_ Emma snapped, “So you’re telling me it was all just mind-control, or something?”

Graham shook his head, pulling over along the sidewalk. “It’s not mind-control so much as subtle manipulation. She can’t help it, Emma. It’s never a conscious decision on her part. She has to choose her words carefully. Oftentimes, she asks questions rather than making statements, because she knows people will convince themselves to do exactly as she says, and that has ended badly before.”

“What do you mean? Give me an example.”

Graham sighed, still not meeting Emma’s gaze. “The Weaver.”

“Huh?”

“Before you came along, the Warlock had a twin brother called the Weaver. He could alter the very fabric of reality, hence the name. He could also manipulate dreams. Everyone was terrified of him. Even his own brother.”

“And?”

“I’m getting there,” said Graham, “He and La Reina got into a violent altercation, probably over power. No one knows for sure. Regina doesn’t talk about it. Anyway, the Weaver nearly killed her, but she screamed at him to stop, and he did. He couldn’t move. Well, I suppose he could, but he didn’t want to. She sent him through one of her vortexes. Nobody knows where he ended up. We were all too afraid to ask.”

“So, she basically killed him with her freaky mind-control?”

“Like I said, Regina’s power isn’t mind-control. It’s the illusion of freedom. She tells you to do something, and you think it’s your own conscious decision, but deep down, somewhere in the darkest corners of your mind, you know otherwise. That fog you mentioned? It’s what we all feel when we’re under her influence.”

Emma was quiet for a moment, struggling with this newfound information. “If that’s true, then,” she paused, “I never really gave consent.”

“Well, that’s complicated,” Graham told her, “You believed you did, which I suppose in the legal definition, means it _was_ consensual. However, considering your decision was based on the supernatural abilities of a notorious ringleader, I would say it wasn’t _entirely_ consensual.”

Emma brought a hand to her head, her brows knitted in a look of distress. “Christ,” she muttered, “So, all those times we had sex— all those things I did for her— weren’t even really my choice. I just did them because she was controlling me. I was her puppet, and I didn’t even know it.”

“I told you, it’s complicated.”

“No!” Emma snapped, “There’s nothing _complicated_ about this, Graham! She used me! She used _us!_ And here I thought I could actually start to forgive her! She’s the reason I became a fucking criminal! She’s the reason I got hooked on drugs! She ruined me! I was a _hero,_ goddammit! I was the Red-fucking-Spectre! I had a family! I had everything! And because of her, I threw it all away!”

She threw open the car door and stormed out onto the sidewalk, slamming the door shut. She walked away fuming. She hugged herself tightly, feeling violated. A sickly feeling whirled in the pit of her stomach. Graham jumped out of the cruiser and tried to follow her, but she was having none of it.

“Emma, wait!”

“Leave me alone!” the blonde snapped, “I’m getting the hell out of here!”

“Please, just think about this—”

“I have, Graham!” Emma shouted, “I was just a puppet! Hell, we both were! And Regina was pulling the strings! She told me she loved me! And I actually believed her! How will I ever know which decisions were really mine?! This is beyond fucked up! I wanna say it’s been nice seeing you again, _Huntsman,_ but for all I know, that _bitch_ put you up to this! Just so she could manipulate me some more!”

Graham shook his head. “It’s not like that, I swear!”'

“How can I know that’s true?! Huh?! How can I _possibly_ know that?!”

Graham stopped suddenly and sighed. “I promise you, Emma, not everything in this world is a manipulation. Regina has nothing to do with us running into each other. It was just a chance encounter, and I don’t know about you, but I’m glad.”

“I know what this is,” said Emma, “This is all just one big distraction! She sent you here to stall me! To keep me from leaving! Well, guess fucking what? I’m getting the hell out of this godforsaken place!”

She turned and started running down the sidewalk. Graham pursued.

“Emma, please, I—”

But it was too late. She had already turned to vapor, and was drifting away with the cold winds of Maine. Graham watched her with sadness in his eyes, and he let out a heavy sigh once more. He hung his head in shame.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured.


	9. The Left Hook

_Graham Humbert was a bit of an enigma. Normally, when La Reina sought a new addition to her inner-circle, she was the one who sought them out. With Graham, however, it was different. He was the one who found_ her, _a feat she thought to be impossible._

 _As it turned out, he could find just about anyone, as long as he had a picture of them. Paintings worked, too, but portraits were rare these days. Such a pity. Regardless, it was this ability of his that earned him his title:_ the Huntsman.

 _He quickly took a liking to Killian Jones, otherwise known as_ the Left Hook. _At first it was just a strong friendship, but it soon became something more. They didn’t tell a soul, but only because of Graham’s insistence. Having been raised Catholic, he was conflicted about his feelings, but he couldn’t deny them._

_Killian, on the other hand, couldn’t have cared less. He preferred the company of both men and women, though Graham fancied only the former. Neither of them liked labels, and so none were used._

_The Left Hook was intriguing as well, of course. He’d been a professional boxer, but later became a Marine and lost his left hand while overseas. It was chopped off at the wrist after he was captured by enemy soldiers._

_Thankfully, he was soon rescued, but he lost far more while at war than just his hand. He was forever a changed man. He never spoke of his military days, aside from the obvious, of course. He was honorably discharged following his little ‘incident.’ Despite having only one hand, he was still an expert marksman._

_This was how La Reina had found him. She had him outfitted with a mechanical apparatus, built by the Engineer. This contraption could morph into just about any weapon Killian could think of, but he opted for the hook. This, in connection with his past as a boxing champion, was why he deemed himself ‘the Left Hook.’_

_The Engineer was also quite the character. A bit of a mad scientist, but no more insane than the Hatter. It was his genius mind that more than made up for his insanity. He claimed he could speak to machines, but it wasn’t quite that simple. He didn’t speak to them, so much as understand them. He could look at any piece of equipment and understand how it was built, how to take it apart, and how to put it back together again. Eventually, it occurred to him that he could do the same with people— but that was a story for another day._

Meanwhile, in the present, Killian Jones was down at the cannery, chopping away at some foul-smelling fish with the large cleaver protruding from his wrist. As much as he missed having both hands, the apparatus certainly had its perks.

After a few more hours, he cleaned off the blade and walked out of the cannery and onto the docks. It was here that he was met by the Sheriff. He grinned when he spotted the man.

“Well, hello there, Sheriff. Come to arrest me?” he teased. His smile fell when he saw the distressed look on Graham’s face. “Hey, what’s the matter, love?”

“It’s Emma,” Graham said quietly, “She’s alive.”

Killian’s eyes widened. “Emma? As in _Emma Swan?”_

Graham nodded. “The one and only,” he said, “and she’s in town, but not for long, I’m afraid.”

“Well, I’m going to try and catch up.”

“That might not be the best idea,” said Graham, “She’s quite angry right now, not just at Regina, but at all of us. At least, that was what her body language told me.”

“I think it’s worth a shot, don’t you?”

“I suppose you can try,” said the Sheriff, “but don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Killian gave a small nod. “I’ll keep that in mind,” he said, “but first, I wanted to ask you if you’d like to come over later. I’ll be ordering pizza, and I’ve got more than enough beer in the fridge.”

Graham smiled faintly. “That sounds nice. Is this a special occasion?”

“I’m going to watch the  _Rocky_ marathon.”

The Sheriff chuckled. “It’s always got to be _Rocky,_ doesn’t it?”

Killian smirked. “Always and forever, love.”

“You know, sometimes I think you like Sylvester Stallone more than me.”

The dark-haired man laughed and shook his head. “I do admire him a great deal, but there is no one I love more than you, Huntsman.”

He smiled and climbed onto his motorcycle, donning his helmet securely. He knew that Graham would have a coronary if he didn’t. He waved to the Sheriff before riding back into town, but first, he was going to see if he could locate the Hellion. Needless to say, his curiosity had been thoroughly piqued.

He rode all through Storybrooke, searching for any signs of a blonde stranger. Fortunately, it didn’t take him long to find her. She was wearing a red jacket with tight jeans, and her golden hair cascaded down her back like an ethereal waterfall. She was just as beautiful as he remembered.

“Emma?” he called, “Is that you, love?”

The woman froze suddenly, turning to gape at him in shock as he pulled up along the curb. He smiled at her, hoping she wouldn’t feel intimidated by him, but he faltered a bit when he saw her fists tighten and morph into red steel.

“Easy, Swan. I’m not here to fight. I just heard you were in town and wanted to say hello.”

“Yeah, well, forgive me for being cautious, _Guyliner.”_

“There’s no need for name-calling,” said Killian, “I was wondering if you’d like to join Graham and I for dinner. We’re having pizza and beer while we watch the _Rocky_ marathon.”

This caught Emma off-guard. “Oh,” she said quietly, “um, that sounds nice, actually.”

Killian’s smile was quick to return. “Wonderful. See you at six?”

Emma hesitated. “Sure. Where are we meeting?”

“My place,” said Killian, “I’ve got a houseboat along the docks. It’s the biggest and the nicest, if I do say so myself.”

Emma raised an eyebrow at him. “Was that an innuendo?”

Killian smirked. “Only if you want it to be, love,” he said with a wink, “See you then.”


	10. The Red Spectre Returns

Regina appeared in Emma’s motel room, wanting to speak with the blonde about their rekindled relationship. When she got there, however, the lights were all off and the place was empty. She frowned in confusion. Wouldn’t Emma have told her she was leaving? She was so sure they’d been getting along, but perhaps she was just mistaken.

She sighed and vanished from the room once more, reappearing in her own room at the mansion. She called Graham’s cell and waited, somewhat impatiently, for him to pick up. It took him about forty-five seconds, but finally, he answered.

_“Hello?”_

_Gonna Fly Now_ was blaring in the background.

“Graham? Have you seen Emma, by chance?”

 _“Yeah, she’s with Killian and I. We’re watching the_ Rocky _marathon.”_

“What? So she hasn’t left yet?”

 _“She was going to,”_ said Graham, _“but Killian convinced her to stick around for a little while. I have to warn you, Regina, she isn’t too happy with you.”_

“What? Why?”

_“She thinks that her relationship with you wasn’t exactly consensual. I think it’s safe to say she feels violated.”_

“Not consensual— Graham, I always asked her for her consent!” Regina snapped.

 _“I’m not saying you didn’t,”_ Graham said in defense, _“but you’ll have to take that up with Emma.”_

“I’m coming over there.”

_“That might not be such a good idea—”_

But Regina had already hung up.

Graham stared at his phone in confusion, then glanced over at Emma and Killian, who were inside on the couch, and when he turned back, he was startled by the sudden presence of La Reina.

“Regina, I really don’t think you should—”

“Out of my way, Sheriff.”

Regina stepped into the houseboat, catching the attention of Emma and Killian. Emma’s eyes grew wide and her face paled.

“Emma, we need to talk.”

Emma turned and jumped over the side of the couch, turning herself into red vapor in midair. Unfortunately, she wound up being pulled into one of Regina’s shadowy portals and reemerged in her room at the motel, reformed. Panicked, she tried to escape once again, but there were dark tendrils pinning her to the bed like before, only this time, she was completely freaked out.

“Let me go!” she screamed. Tears spilled down her face. “You monster!”

Her cries for help were muffled as a tendril slid over her mouth. She stared at Regina with sheer terror in her eyes. The brunette stared back at her with a look of pain and remorse.

“I’m sorry, Emma,” Regina said quietly, “but I’m going to explain myself to you, and you’re going to listen. Then you can have your chance to say whatever’s on your mind.”

Emma was hyperventilating and struggling to break free. Regina took the opportunity to make use of her unfortunate ability.

“Breathe, dear,” she said softly, “and try to relax.”

Emma felt the desire to obey, and that terrified her. Still, she began to breathe normally, and her unwilling attempt to calm down resulted in her eyelids drooping. She just whimpered softly beneath the black tendril and it slowly fell away into the darkness below. She let out a shaky breath when Regina sat down on the edge of the bed and wiped away her tears, but did not move, because she didn’t want to. Or at least, she _thought_ she didn’t. At the same time, she knew the truth, and she’d never been more petrified in her life. Not even when the Mage came after her.

“Emma, I want you to know that if I ever caused you to feel uncomfortable, for any reason, that I am truly sorry. I cannot control the effect I have on people. I must always choose my words carefully around people. Do you recall a time where I failed to ask for your consent before sex?”

Emma just shook her head slowly.

“It is impossible for me to tell if someone truly wants to do the things I tell them,” Regina said. There was hurt in her voice. Her dark eyes glistened with tears. “You have no idea how hard it is for me, having to suffer with this horrid power. If I could change it, I’d do it in a heartbeat. I am so sorry, Emma. I wanted to believe you truly desired a relationship with me. I convinced myself that your feelings for me really were your own, but now I need you to tell me the truth. Do you believe that I took advantage of you in any way?”

Emma was silent for a moment.

“Answer the question,” Regina said softly, “Please.”

“Yes,” Emma rasped, “but I didn’t at the time.”

Regina couldn’t keep it in anymore. She broke down into tears, sobbing openly. “I’m sorry, Emma,” she wept, “I’m so sorry. I never meant to hurt you. I love you. Tell me what I can do to make this up to you. Please. I want to do everything I can to redeem myself, even if it takes me a lifetime. I would do anything for you, Emma Swan.”

There was not even a shred of deception in the woman’s words.

“Just take me back to Boston,” Emma whispered, “and don’t contact me. Don’t send anyone after me, either. Don’t tell them where I am. I just want to be alone. Please, Regina. I need time to think about this.”

Regina looked like she was in pain, but she gave a small nod. “Very well, Emma,” she murmured, “I’ll stay away. Just know that I will always love you, no matter what.”

“I believe you,” said Emma, “but that doesn’t make this any less painful.”

Regina hung her head in shame. “I— I understand.”

The tendrils holding Emma in place vanished, and the blonde’s body turned to vapor, disappearing through the vent and out into the cool night air. She couldn’t go far like this, so she had to reform her body every few-hundred feet. That was how she eventually got back to Boston. She wasn’t even sure how long it took, but she didn’t really care. All that mattered was that she was back in her apartment, safe and sound.

The first thing she did when she got back to her apartment was go to her closet and retrieve a small metal suitcase from the shelf above the rack where her clothes hung. She set the suitcase on the bed and unzipped it slowly. Sweat rolled down her forehead as she did. Inside the black suitcase was a red-and-black wetsuit, a black mask, and a belt with an ‘S’ for a buckle. A sad smile graced her lips.

“Maybe you deserve a second chance, Spectre.”

Sometime later, in the dead of night, a man was mugging a defenseless woman in an alley. He snatched her purse, taunting her as she cried and begged for mercy. He pulled out a gun, intent on silencing her, but before he could even put his finger on the trigger, he saw a flash of red in his peripheral. When he turned, he was instantly met with the sight of a metallic, red fist, which decked him square in the face. He cursed and stumbled backwards, dropping the woman’s purse.

“Who— Who the hell are you?!” he shouted as he locked eyes with the masked figure.

A faint smirk graced the crimson being’s lips. “I’m the Red Spectre, motherfucker.”

The terrified woman held her purse close to her and tried to run, but the mugger aimed his gun at her and fired. She screamed, but the bullet never reached her. Confused, she looked to find that the scarlet figure had caught it in their bare hand.

“Th-Thank you, Spectre!” she sobbed, “Thank you so much!”

“Don’t worry about it. Just run home, ma’am, and be sure to lock your doors and windows.”

“Should I call the police?”

“I’ve got that covered. Have a nice night.”

“God bless you, Red Spectre!”

The woman disappeared around the corner, leaving the Spectre alone with the mugger. The Spectre’s smirk widened and she tossed the bullet at the man’s head, hitting him right between the eyes. She cracked her metallic knuckles.

“Now then,” she said, “Where were we?”

Just forty-five minutes later, a wanted thief by the name of Rob Locksley was found outside of the Boston Police Department, bound to a streetlight and covered in bruises. There was a cut on his forehead, and a large ‘S’ painted between his eyes with his own blood. The media was quick to report on this.

_Crook Captured By Costumed Crusader!_

_The Red Spectre Returns!_

_Once a Hero, Always a Hero!_  

Three days later, as Emma was coming home from a night at the bar— obviously celebrating her return to glory— she walked into her apartment, flipped on the light, and headed into the living room to watch the news coverage on TV. Just before she turned it on, however, she saw a reflection in the dark screen. Red light flickered behind her, and she gasped. Spinning around, she found herself face to face with a bearded man whose icy-blue eyes flashed crimson. He stared at her with an unreadable expression. He had dark circles under his tired eyes and faint streaks of gray all through his dirty-blonde hair.

“Emma,” he said stoically.

Emma nearly fell off of the couch. _“R-Red Thunder?_ What— How did you—”

The man’s lips curled into a warm smile, and he chuckled. “Red Thunder, huh? Why not _Dad_ for a change? It’s been too long, kiddo.”

He offered a hand to her. “Come on. We’ve got some catching up to do.”

Emma took his hand, only to be zapped. “Dad! What the hell?!”

He gave her a pointed look. “That’s for never calling.”


	11. One Month Later

A month passed since the return of the Red Renegades, and the people were still in awe. La Reina Malvada and her inner-circle were nowhere to be found, so the team only had to deal with small-scale crimes, mainly petty theft, arson, and muggings. Still, life for the Red Spectre had greatly improved. She was no longer an alcoholic. Her father had strictly prohibited her from so much as _thinking_ about drinking.

Currently, she was sitting at the kitchen table at her parents’ place in New York, having moved back in with them just two weeks prior (per her mother’s insistence). It looked like a normal suburban home. That is, until you went down into the basement. The walls were covered in framed newspaper clippings revolving about the Red Renegades and their showdowns with La Reina’s inner-circle. Emma avoided it like the plague.

The only pictures missing from the collection were those of the Red Raven, along with all traces of her name. Yet Emma’s pictures remained. They really didn’t know. They didn’t suspect a thing. Or maybe they did, but were in denial. There was no way their darling daughter could ever betray them and become a puppet for the Queen of the Criminal Underground.

Emma sipped her coffee in silence, staring blankly into the distance. It was like she was staring at nothing, yet everything all at once. A familiar voice pulled her from her thoughts.

_“Hey, Em. What’s up?”_

She looked up to see her sister Ruby, otherwise known as _the Red Wolf,_ smiling warmly at her. She gave a tight smile in return, hiding the meager expression behind her steaming mug as she took another sip.

“Just getting back in the groove of things,” she said, “It’s been so long.”

“Yeah,” said Ruby, “Yeah, it has. So, uh, why didn’t you reach out? It’s been ten years, Em. You should have contacted us. We were beginning to think something had happened to you, but then we heard about you on the news and David had me try to locate you.” Her smile fell, though only a little. “Which reminds me, there’s something we need to talk about.”

Emma arched an eyebrow at her. “What is it?”

“We should go somewhere a bit more private. Come with me.”

“Um, okay,” Emma said awkwardly.

She followed Ruby out into the garage and continued to drink her coffee, looking at the brunette expectantly.

“Well? What’s going on? I don’t have all day, Rubes.”

Ruby kept her voice low. “Emma, La Reina’s scent is all over you. Not just hers, but the Huntsman’s and the Left Hook’s. Have you been after them all this time? Is that why you never contacted us?”

“No,” said Emma, “It’s complicated.”

“Then make it _un-complicated.”_

Emma let out a shaky breath and squeezed her eyes shut. “Ten years ago, I was raped,” she said quietly.

Ruby gasped. “Oh God, Emma—”

“No! Keep your voice down,” the blonde said quickly, “Please don’t tell anyone about that. Especially not Mom and Dad. The last thing I need is to ruin this picture-perfect family thing we’ve got going.”

Ruby looked physically ill. “Emma, that’s horrible. Who was it? Did he go to prison?”

“I— I never called the cops.”

_“What?”_

“I didn’t think they would help me,” said Emma, “I thought they might be working for La Reina, just like the ones here.”

“Wait, the cops work for La Reina?”

“Yeah. Well, they used to. I don’t know if they do now,” said Emma. She shook her head. “Anyway, it was the Mage.”

“Huh?”

“The Mage. The one who attacked me. He’s the Warlock’s son.”

“Did you fight back?”

Emma glared at the brunette. “Of course I did!” she snapped, “But I wasn’t strong enough, and I wasn’t exactly in my right mind!”

“What do you mean? Were you drinking?”

“No. The drinking only started after— _you know._ I had just gotten out of the hospital when the Mage attacked me. I was experimenting with drugs. I got addicted, then someone convinced me to try heroin. My heart stopped twice in the ambulance.”

Ruby’s eyes were as wide as the moon. “Emma, you—”

“Ruby, _please._ Don’t tell a soul.”

“But—”

_“Promise me.”_

Ruby just sighed. “Okay. I promise I won’t say anything.”

Emma gave a curt nod. “Good. Let’s not dwell on that too much, alright?” She hesitated a bit. “Okay, so I wound up getting pregnant, and I had a son. I gave him up for adoption.” Again, she paused. “About a week ago, a ten year-old boy showed up at my door, claiming I was his mother, and that I needed to come home with him. So I did.”

“And? What’s his name?”

“Henry,” Emma said with a faint smile, “His name is Henry.”

“Where does he live? Did you take him home?”

Emma nodded once more. “He lives in a town called Storybrooke.”

Ruby snorted. _“Storybrooke?_ Seriously?”

“Yeah. I know,” said Emma, “Anyway, I took him home, and lo and behold, I met his adoptive mother.” She looked Ruby dead in the face. “You’ll never guess who it was, Rubes.”

The brunette frowned a bit, but then her eyes grew wide in realization. “You don’t mean—”

Emma just nodded slowly. “Yeah.”

“The Evil Queen adopted your son? Is he evil? Does she hurt him?”

“Yes, no, and I don’t think so,” said Emma, “She didn’t try anything. She just told me she was a different person now. She was telling the truth, Ruby. She’s changed. I also ran into the Huntsman and the Left Hook. They’re an item.”

“Really? Well, I honestly wasn’t expecting that,” said Ruby, “but what about Henry? Why didn’t you bring him back with you?”

“Because I’m not his mother.”

“But you _are,”_ Ruby argued, “You gave birth to him. He’s _your_ son, Emma.”

“Yeah, I gave birth to him, but I didn’t raise him. He’s her son, whether I like it or not. I have no right to take him away from her. She’d probably destroy me if I tried.”

“Well, yeah, you’ve got a point there,” Ruby relented, “but what if she is hurting him?”

“She seemed very protective of him,” said Emma, “I don’t think she’d do that. He’s probably just freaked out because his mom was a supervillain.”

“Was? Don’t you mean _is?”_

Emma shook her head. “I told you, Ruby, she’s changed. She told me she was trying to be a better person, and I know she was telling the truth. My powers are never wrong.”

“Alright, well, what about the other two?”

“They’re trying to be better, too. The Huntsman is the town Sheriff. I don’t know about the Left Hook.”

“Are there any other villains there?”

“None that I saw,” said Emma, “and I wouldn’t exactly call them ‘villains’ anymore. Like I said, they’re different people now. It’s been ten years, Ruby. They’ve moved on. We should all do the same. Let’s leave the past in the past, and look forward to the future. We don’t have to worry about criminal masterminds. Just the grunts. Piece of cake, right?”

Ruby smiled softly. “Right.”

“Oh, and Ruby?”

“Yeah?”

“We never had this discussion.”


	12. The Greater Good

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've decided to enable anonymous comments again, at least for this story. I've had them disabled due to harassment, but I feel bad because that isn't fair to anonymous users who actually have something nice/constructive to say. I will, however, continue to moderate comments.

Another few weeks went by, and the Red Renegades were getting along surprisingly well, despite the lack of the Red Raven. They never spoke of her, of course, and that was beginning to bother Emma. Finally, she couldn’t take it anymore. She approached her mother one sunny afternoon while the woman was out in the garden, planting flowers.

“Mom? Can we talk?”

The petite woman’s eyes lit up at this, and she smiled. “Of course, sweetie.”

Emma hesitated. “I need to know what happened to Lily.”

Her mother’s smile fell almost instantly. “Perhaps now isn’t the best time to discuss this, dear.”

Emma folded her arms. “Then when _is_ a good time? I know she betrayed us, but I’d still like to know. Mom, _please.”_

“Why don’t you ask your father?”

“He told me to ask you.”

The woman sighed. “Very well,” she said, nodding slowly, “After you disappeared that night, Lily told us she was the one who sent you to that alley. Apparently there was some sort of drug deal going on, but your father and I found this suspicious. We wondered why she wasn’t with you, so we confronted her and she became, shall we say, _hostile._ She ran off, so we had Ruby follow her. That was when we found out she was working for the Queen. We went to the alley she told us about, but you weren’t there, Emma. We were afraid something terrible had happened to you, but we did everything we could to find you.”

There were tears in her eyes now.

“Why didn’t you answer our calls, Emma? Why didn’t you try to reach out? We’d have come to you in a second if only we knew where you were. We kept having Ruby search for you, thinking you were still in New York. We never realized just how close you really were.”

She cupped Emma’s face in her hands and smiled despite her tears.

“We love you, Emma, more than you can ever know. All we want is to be a family again, and to do what’s right. We were given these powers for a reason, Emma. We’ve got to use them for the greater good.”

Emma gave a tight smile. “Right. Thanks, Mom.”

“You’re welcome, dear.”

Emma headed back inside and found her father in the kitchen with comic-books laid out on the table. She raised an eyebrow at this.

“Dad? What’s with the comics?”

The bearded man smiled fondly at her. “These are about us, kiddo. Your mother and I were asked for permission. We obviously gave them the green-light. They’re best-sellers. I thought you’d like to have them.”

“Am I in them?”

“Of course! The names are all changed, for obvious reasons, but you can’t have the Red Renegades without the Spectre. Wouldn’t be the same without you, kid.” Her father handed her a comic. “Here. This is the first edition.”

Emma took it with some reluctance, marveling over the glossy cover. On it was a picture of her, her parents, and Ruby. Lily was noticeably absent. Emma glanced up at her father with a conflicted look.

“What’s the matter, honey?”

“Shouldn’t Lily be in this? I mean, I know what she did, but she _was_ a Renegade.”

Her father placed a hand on hers, giving it a gently squeeze. “She appears later,” he said quietly, “but yes, she was. I’m sorry, Emma. I know she was your friend.”

Emma shook her head. “No,” she murmured, “She only pretended to be.” She walked away with the comic and headed for the stairs.

“Don’t you want the rest?” her father called after her.

“I’ll come back for them later.”

Emma went up to her room and locked the door, lying on her bed as she reluctantly turned to the first page. She was met with the vibrant New York skyline, peaceful and blue, only for the next panel to show dark clouds forming in the sunny sky. They loomed ominously over the Big Apple. Bittersweet memories came flooding back into her mind.

_Thirteen year-old Emma Swan was riding in the back of the car next to her best friend Ruby Lucas. Emma’s parents were up front, chatting about boring ‘adult stuff,’ like the weather. Emma tuned them out. She was so excited. They were going to the zoo that day, and she couldn’t wait! It was going to be perfect. But then the Red Storm came, and everything changed._

_The car was struck by lightning. Red lightning. It was unlike anything Emma had ever seen. She might have thought it was beautiful, had it not hit the car and flipped the vehicle onto its side. She and Ruby screamed in terror while her parents tried their best to calm them down._

_Police arrived. The firemen and the paramedics were quick to follow. Everyone was told to try and remain calm while the firemen got them out. Thankfully, the four of them were left with minor injuries, but were understandably shaken by the whole thing. It was almost miraculous, in a way._

_It made the news that very day. **“Family of Four Struck by Lightning, Claims it was ‘Supernatural.’”** _

_Emma found it odd that the media deemed Ruby a member of her family. They weren’t related, after all. However, as time passed, she came to realize that family wasn’t always about blood._

_It wasn’t long after the Accident that Ruby’s grandmother passed away, and since the distraught young girl had no other living relatives, she was adopted by the Swans, but chose to keep her own family name to honor her grandmother’s memory._

_Just a few weeks following the bizarre Accident, a string of inexplicable events began to occur. From the few glimpses she caught of the news, Emma learned that there was a surge in crime and reports of people vanishing into thin air, cars hovering, and shadows ‘coming to life.’ Whatever that meant._

_One afternoon, Emma was in the backyard with Ruby, kicking a soccer ball around idly, when out of the blue, her foot began to disintegrate into red vapor. There was no pain, but she screamed anyhow, and so did Ruby._

_“Ruby!”_

_“Emma! What’s happening?!”_

_“I— I don’t know!”_

_Their father rushed outside in alarm. “Girls? Why are you— oh my God! Emma!”_

_He ran to her, but she had already become vaporized. Tears welled in his eyes. He was angry, confused, and distraught all at once. He couldn’t comprehend what was happening. He’d never seen anything like it._

_“Ruby! Go get your mother!”_

_The brunette darted inside, crying uncontrollably, and returned just moments later with her adoptive mother in tow._

_“_ _David! What’s going on?!”_

_David looked to his wife in distress, shaking his head. “I don’t know,” he said, completely at a loss, “I heard her scream, so I came outside, and then she— she just disappeared. There was this red dust, or something, I’m not sure. I don’t know how, or why, but I just know it’s got something to do with that damned lightning!”_

_Before his wife could even think to respond, Ruby cried out, “Look! Behind you!”_

_David swiftly turned to find the red substance condensing in the air, coming together to form the shape of a person. Emma. It was definitely his daughter, but something was wrong. Something was terribly, terribly wrong. Her entire body was red. Not just red, but a bright, metallic red. She almost looked like a statue, shimmering in the sunlight, but she moved no differently than before. She stared at her glistening hands in a mix of horror and fascination._

_“Dad? What— What’s happening to me? What is this?”_

_David rushed to her and pulled her into a tight embrace. “I don’t know, kiddo,” he told her, “but we’re gonna figure it out. I promise.”_

_Her metallic hide was warm to the touch, but it did not burn his skin when he held her. He regarded her with sad eyes._

_“Where’d you go, kid?” he asked softly, “Where’d you go just now?”_

_“I was right here,” said Emma, “I was just, like, in a billion pieces. It felt like I was floating. I could see and hear, but everything looked red. It still does. It’s like I was a ghost or something.”_

_“Or a spectre,” David said quietly, “A red spectre.”_

_And that was the day their lives changed forever._


	13. Danger

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter but important

Emma was awoken by a knock at her door. She opened her eyes and found that she’d fallen asleep with the comic-book draped over her face.

 _“Emma?”_ It was Ruby. _“Can we talk?”_

Emma tossed the comic aside and sat up. “Yeah. Come in.”

Ruby opened the door and stepped into the room quietly. She had a pained expression on her face. “Ruby? What’s the matter?”

“I can’t do it, Emma.”

“Do what?”

“I’m sorry, Em, but I— I don’t think I can keep your secret anymore. I feel terrible. The guilt,” said Ruby, “it’s eating away at me. Please, Emma, you need to tell them yourself. I can’t keep lying to them.”

“You’re not lying,” Emma insisted, “You’re just withholding information.”

“It’s lying by omission,” replied the brunette, “Please tell them. Don’t you think they deserve to know?”

Emma swallowed. “I guess so,” she said quietly, “but what if they freak out?”

“I imagine they probably will,” said Ruby, “Well, they’ll be heartbroken, at least. But it’s not doing you any good to keep this bottled up, Emma. It’s only hurting you more.”

The blonde sighed. “Yeah. You’re right.” She stood up slowly. “Okay. I’ll tell them.”

Ruby nodded and put a hand on her shoulder. “Do you need me to be there when you do?”

Emma shook her head. “That’s alright. I think it would be best if I did this alone,” she said, “Thanks, though.”

“No problem,” Ruby said softly.

Emma went to find her parents and asked them to join her on the patio out back. They did so without hesitation, oblivious to the harsh reality of what they were about to hear. Having heightened senses, Ruby couldn’t help but eavesdrop from inside the house.

 _“Mom. Dad,”_ Emma said softly, _“There’s something I have to tell you.”_

Ten years, relayed in just two minutes. That was how long it took for her parents to break down into tears. She, on the other hand, was too numb to cry. She stood there, stiff as a board and whiter than a sheet, as they simultaneously pulled her into a bone-crushing embrace.

“Oh, Emma,” her mother sobbed, “Why didn’t you tell us sooner?”

“I was afraid,” she breathed.

“You don’t have to be,” said her father, “Not anymore. We’ll find him, kiddo. We’ll find that son-of-a-bitch and end him.”

“No,” said Emma, “It has to be me.”

Her mother took hold of her hand firmly. “We’ll do it together.”

Meanwhile, in Storybrooke, Regina was in her office doing paperwork when she got a call. She eyed it for a moment before answering.

“Hello?”

_“Madame Mayor? Sheriff Humbert has come to see you.”_

“Thank you, Ashley. Send him in.”

The door opened, and in walked the Sheriff. He bore an unreadable expression as he closed it behind him. Regina arched a curious eyebrow at him.

“What is it, Sheriff?”

Graham was quiet for a moment. “I was watching the news,” he said, “The Red Renegades are back, and so is the Spectre.”

Regina felt like she couldn’t breathe. “I have to find her,” she rasped, “and I have to protect her.”

Graham frowned a bit. “What about your promise to her?”

“I know,” said Regina, “but if I don’t do something, _he_ might come after her.”

“I will go,” said Graham, “I can find her. I just need a picture.”

Regina opened her laptop and searched for the Red Spectre. She pulled up a picture and turned the computer towards the Sheriff. She locked eyes with him, bearing a mask of determination.

“Is this sufficient?” she asked him.

“Yes, Reina.”

Regina nodded. “Good. Now go. You can say goodbye to Killian, but make it quick. I fear that Emma is in grave danger.”


	14. The Visitor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The plot thickens...

“So where is ‘Storybrooke?’” asked David, “I’ve never heard of it before.”

“Don’t even try it, Dad,” Emma warned.

“Try what?”

“Going there. I doubt it will end well.”

“I thought you said the Queen had changed?”

“Well, yes, but if you try to take Henry from her, she’ll probably go ballistic.”

David put his hands up in defense. “Hey, I never said I was going to take him.”

“But were you planning to?”

“Only if she’s abusing him.”

“That’s up for the Feds to decided, Dad, not us. Besides, you can’t take him from his mom, even if she is— _was—_ the Evil Queen.”

“She may be his mom, but you’re his mother, Emma,” David said proudly, “and _I_ am his grandfather.”

Emma smiled. “Didn’t realize you wanted to be a grandpa so badly.”

David held his head high. “I prefer _grandad.”_

“Okay, _Grandad,”_ Emma teased.

David looked to her with a solemn smile and grief in his frigid eyes. “In all seriousness, Emma, I really think we should work together to find this ‘Mage’ guy. I’ve never even heard of him. What does he look like? What are his powers?”

“Well, it’s been ten years, so I doubt he looks the same, but his face still haunts me,” Emma said quietly, “He had dark hair, almost black, but just a little bit gray. He had somewhat of a goatee, but not quite. His eyes were dark blue, and he kind of looked like Robert Downey, Jr. Oh, and he could make fire in his hands.”

“So he’s the Warlock’s son?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay, and the Warlock’s real name is Robert Gold?”

“Yep.”

“Then I suppose we’ll have to do a quick Google search,” said David.

He logged onto his computer and searched for the name Robert Gold. He searched through the pictures and looked to Emma for confirmation.

“Any of these look familiar?”

Emma shook her head. “No. Try adding ‘New York’ to the search.”

David did so, and lo and behold, the first thing that came up was the link to a site for Robert Gold, attorney at law. There was also an address. He looked to Emma once more.

“If the Queen really didn’t send the Mage after you, then I’d say Gold probably did. I’m sorry, Emma. We’ll get him. We’ll make him tell us where his son is, and then we’ll go after him, too. Justice will be served. I promise.”

_“Don’t.”_

“What?”

Emma’s eyes glistened with unshed tears. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”

David just nodded slowly. “Alright,” he said. Before he could say anything else, there was a loud knock at the door. He and Emma exchanged a puzzled glance and he got up to answer it.

“Hello? What can I—”

He froze when he realized who he was staring at. He clenched his jaw, and his eyes flashed from blue to red.

 _“You,”_ he seethed.

Emma hurried over. “Dad, what— _Graham?_ What the fuck are you doing here? I told the Queen not to send anyone after me. She promised she wouldn’t! What the hell’s going on?!”

There stood the Huntsman with his hands held up in defense. “Emma,” he said, sounding panicked, “You’re in terrible danger.”

Emma’s heart just about skipped a beat. “What? What are you talking about? Is that a threat?”

“No,” said Graham, “It’s a warning. La Reina only sent me to tell you to leave town, and to go somewhere safe. She said that putting yourself in the limelight again is putting you and your family at risk. You should all come to Storybrooke, where it’s safe. La Reina will protect you.”

“Like hell that’s gonna happen!”

“Emma, please. Can’t we just put the past behind us? La Reina doesn’t want the Mage coming after you again. All she wants is your safety. Please. Come with me. All of you. We haven’t got much time.”

“Why is the Evil Queen concerned about our safety?” asked David.

“Because, she’s trying to be a better person. She wants to be a hero, like you. Please, sir, I’m begging you. Come with me.”

David looked to Emma expectantly. “Emma?”

“He’s telling the truth,” said Emma, “or at least, he thinks he is.”

“I am,” Graham insisted, “The only orders I was given were to come here and bring you back to Storybrooke.”

“One condition,” Emma told him, “Will you help us find the Mage?”

Graham blinked. “The Mage? You mean Neal Cassidy?”

Emma and her father exchanged a bewildered glance.

“You know him?” asked David.

“Hardly. I haven’t seen him in ten years.”

“Can you find him?” asked Emma.

Graham nodded. “I just need a picture.”

David looked to his computer on the kitchen table and it began hovering towards him. He searched for _Neal Cassidy, New York,_ and thousands of images came up. He looked to Emma expectantly.

“Recognize any of these, kiddo?”

Emma was hyperventilating. She pointed to one image in particular with a trembling finger. “Th-There,” she rasped, “That’s him.”

“Breathe, honey,” said David, “It’s going to be alright.”

He rubbed her back gently in an effort to comfort her. She relaxed a bit, but continued to shake. David showed the image to the Huntsman.

“You can find people, right? Just by seeing their picture?”

Graham nodded. “That’s right.”

“Then can you tell us where this scumbag is?”

The Huntsman’s eyes glowed pure white. “He’s in Boston. He’s heading for an apartment complex. He’s plotting something, I can tell. I don’t know what it is, but it isn’t good. He keeps looking around suspiciously. He’s wearing a backpack.”

“Explosives, you think?” asked David.

“Possibly.”

“Which apartment complex?” asked Emma.

“Ink Block,” said Graham.

Emma’s heart sank, and her face paled. “He must think I still live there. He’s out to kill me.”

“We have to stop him,” said David.

“There’s no time for that,” said Graham, “We need to get you out of here before he finds out where you are.”

“No!” said Emma, “Not until I kill him!”

David looked mortified. “Emma, you— you want to _kill him?”_

“Of course! He took something from me, Dad. Something I can never get back,” said Emma, “so I’m gonna return the favor!”

“Careful, Emma,” said Graham, “It might be a trap.”

“The Huntsman’s right,” said David, “It’s too dangerous. Let me go, instead.”

“No,” Emma said firmly, “I was in a bad place when he got to me. I was weak. I’m not weak anymore. Trust me, I can take him. If something goes wrong, I want you two to cover me. Can you do that?”

David eyed the Huntsman warily. “I’ll do my best.”

“As will I,” said Graham, “but we have to make it quick. La Reina will be worried if we don’t get to Storybrooke soon.”

“Alright, let’s tell your mother and Ruby—”

David was cut off as Emma rushed past him and out the door, morphing into vapor and sailing away with the wind.

“Emma! Come back!” His cries were in vain. He huffed in frustration, looking to the Huntsman instead. “Damn it. Come with me, Huntsman, to the garage. We need to get there before Emma does. I can’t let her become a murderer.”

Graham was confused. “What do you mean?”

“Killing people isn’t in her nature,” said David, “She’d never take a life.”

“So she didn’t tell you?”

David frowned. “Tell me what?”

Graham tensed, knowing he had royally fucked up. “It’s— It’s nothing. Forget it.”

“No, it’s not ‘nothing,’ Huntsman!” David snapped, grabbing the man by the shirt. “What didn’t Emma tell me? Answer me, damn it!”

Graham’s jaw clenched. “Why don’t you ask her yourself?”

“Maybe I will,” David sneered, “Come on! We can settle this later!”


	15. War

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: murder/mutilation*
> 
> *Also, you should all check out my story, 'Guardian Angel.'

Neal Gold, now legally known as Neal Cassidy (in order to distance himself from his father), was walking down the street in Boston towards the former apartment of one Emma Swan, otherwise known as the Red Spectre. In his bag was a jug of gasoline. Tucked into his waistband beneath his jacket was a loaded Glock. He, of course, was under the impression that the woman still lived in Ink Block.

When he reached the apartment complex, Neal entered the elevator and went up to the top floor. He pulled a note from his pocket and eyed it carefully. Floor eight. Apartment fifteen.

 _“Bingo,”_ he whispered.

He made his way to the door, looked around, and upon realizing it was locked, he pulled a hairpin out of his pocket. He began picking the lock, as he had done countless times before. It took him ten seconds to get inside. He locked the door behind him so as to not make it look suspicious and crept silently through the apartment. No one seemed to be home. Maybe Emma was just sleeping. If not, then he would just have to wait for her. He checked the living room, then the bathroom, and finally, the bedroom. Nothing. She was nowhere to be found.

Neal frowned. Where was she? From what he knew, she rarely left the apartment. Apparently she worked from home, doing some freelance writing for magazines and shit. He went into the kitchen and began rummaging through the fridge. His frown deepened, as it was full of vegetables and healthy stuff. He shut the refrigerator door, and when he did, he was immediately decked in the face with a red, metallic fist. He stumbled back, hitting the counter.

“Motherfucker! You broke my fuckin’ nose!”

He opened his eyes and glared at his attacker. It was none other than Emma Swan, clad head to toe in her impenetrable red shell. She was beyond livid.

“That’s not the only thing I’ll break, you son of a bitch!” She grabbed him by the collar of his shirt, and he responded by pulling his gun on her. “Try it, you monster! I fucking dare you!”

He squeezed the trigger, and the bullet ricocheted, striking him in the shoulder. He cried out in agony.

“God damnit! You’re gonna pay for that—”

Emma smacked the gun out of his hand and grabbed his neck, slamming his head against the counter as hard as she possibly could.

“You gonna kill me?” he slurred, suddenly disoriented, “Huh?! You don’t have the guts, you fucking whore!”

Emma grit her teeth in primal rage. “You have _no idea_ what I am capable of,” she hissed, “You remember Sidney, don’t you? Sidney Glass?”

“What about him?!”

“That was my handiwork,” Emma said darkly, “and now it looks like I’m getting a do-over.”

“NO!” screamed Neal, “You can’t do this to me!”

Emma spat in his face. “Don’t you even fucking start!” she snapped, “You piece of shit! I begged you for mercy once, and you know what happened? You _laughed!_ You laughed, and you didn’t stop!” She began bashing his head against the granite countertop repeatedly. _“You— didn’t— fucking— stop!”_

Suddenly, the door was kicked in, and her father and the Huntsman came rushing in. She gasped when she saw them.

“Emma!” shouted David, “You can’t kill him! He has to face justice!”

“He is!” cried Emma, “Cold, hard justice!”

She lifted a finger and it turned to red vapor. Neal’s eyes just about burst from his bloody head when he saw this.

 _“NO!”_ he begged, _“Please, no!”_

“There will be no mercy,” Emma seethed.

“Emma wait!” shouted Graham, “The Queen promised Gold she wouldn’t—”

It was too late.

She brought her vaporized finger to Neal’s ear and let it sink down into his ear-canal. Sidney’s screams had haunted her. Neal’s harrowing wails sent pleasant chills down her spine, and brought a wild grin to her metallic face. The man before her screamed bloody-murder as she held his head against the counter. Suddenly the wailing ceased, and his blood-streaked face was forever frozen in a mortified scream.

Emma stared at him coldly as she reformed her finger. Then, for good measure, she unzipped his pants and severed his cock with one swift motion. She regretted not doing that first, but there was no going back now. Still, there was one final thing she could do.

She grabbed a towel, not wanting to touch it directly, and picked up the severed appendage. She then stuffed it into his open mouth and laughed wickedly. When she looked up, she found both her father and the Sheriff gaping at her in utter horror. This made her frown a bit.

 _“What?”_ she snapped.

“Emma,” said David, “You— You killed him.”

“Just like I said I would.”

“Have you done this before?”

“No. I’ve never stuffed anyone’s dick in their own mouth.”

David bore a look of disgust. “No, Emma, I mean have you killed before?”

The look in his eyes told Emma that he already knew the answer. Seeing this, Emma’s eye twitched and she turned towards the Huntsman with a look of betrayal.

“What’d you tell him, Graham?”

“Emma, I—”

“What the _fuck_ did you tell him?!”

“The truth!” cried the Huntsman, “Well, not all of it!”

“Emma, please, tell me what’s going on,” David begged, “Were you working with La Reina, too? Did you know Lily was a traitor?”

Emma’s fists tightened. “It wasn’t by choice,” she told him, “La Reina made me do it.”

Angry tears welled in David’s eyes. “Then why the hell didn’t you say anything?!”

“Because I was afraid, damn it! I was afraid you would disown me like you did Lily!”

“You’re my daughter, Emma!” shouted David, “Lily isn’t! I would never disown you! I just wish you had told me the truth! You’ve been lying this whole time! You were a villain, Emma! Whether by choice or not, you’re a murderer!”

“Sh-Shut up! This is the only time I’ve actually wanted to kill someone! This is the only time it was my choice! Neal never gave _me_ a choice! So I didn’t give him one, either! The only way this was going to end was in death! Now he’s in Hell, where he _fucking_ belongs!”

David was too stunned— too angry— to speak. Graham, on the other hand, was able to find his words, albeit with great difficulty.

“Emma,” he said quietly, "La Reina promised Gold that she wouldn’t send anyone after his son. You have single-handedly just started a war.”


	16. Return to Storybrooke

_“She_ **what?”**

“It all happened so quickly,” the Huntsman said into the payphone, “I’m sorry, Regina.”

 _“This isn’t your fault,”_ the Queen told him. A heavy sigh escaped her lips. _“So, what did you do with the body?”_

“We rolled it up in a carpet and got out of there as quickly as we could.”

_“Did anyone see you?”_

“No. The halls were empty.”

_“And what about the streets? Was anyone around?”_

“Red Thunder pulled the car around back and we stuffed it in the trunk. The alley was empty.”

_“Are you sure?”_

“Yes,” Graham said firmly.

_“Where is the body now?”_

“Still in the trunk.”

_“What will you do with it?”_

“Emma will destroy it,” said Graham, “Do you still want us to come to you? Is it even safe there? Or is there somewhere else we can go?”

 _“As of now, Storybrooke is your best bet,”_ said Regina, _“If something goes wrong, I want you to pin the blame on me. I will not allow the Warlock to hurt either of you, or anyone else. The fault is mine and mine alone.”_

“Regina, if he thinks you did this, he’ll try to destroy you.”

_“Try, yes. Succeed, no.”_

“Don’t let your confidence get to you,” said Graham, “Hubris doesn’t suit you.”

_“You’re right. Black is more my color.”_

Graham just shook his head. “Stay safe, my Queen.”

_“And you, my Huntsman.”_

Regina hung up, so Graham turned and joined Emma and David in the car. Emma was in the backseat, staring blankly out the window. David was in the driver’s seat, gripping the wheel tightly. Neither of them said a word as the Sheriff climbed inside. David just took off down the road and back to the house.

“We need to get to Storybrooke,” said Graham, “and fast.”

“We’ve got to get Mary-Margaret and Ruby,” said David.

“Alright. Just make it quick,” Graham told him.

David gritted his teeth. “You _do not_ give _me_ orders, Huntsman,” he snapped.

“Jesus, Dad, he’s just trying to help,” Emma said, irritated.

David just sighed. “Right. Sorry.”

Graham nodded, but said nothing.

Soon, they were back in New York, in the driveway of the Swan residence. David, using his telekinetic powers, loaded the family’s belongings into the SUV, which he would be driving to Storybrooke. Meanwhile, Emma and Graham would take his red Camaro to dispose of the Mage’s body. They never said where or how they would do it, so as to ensure that no one could get any information out of Emma’s family.

“What’s going on, David?” Mary-Margaret asked frantically, “Where are we going?”

David kept his eyes locked on the road. “Storybrooke.”

“What? But isn’t that where La Reina is? Why would we go there?”

“Because it’s safe,” David said firmly, “La Reina will protect us.”

“But she’s our enemy.”

“Emma says otherwise. We have to trust our daughter.”

David’s words leave no room for debate, and so no one questions him further. They just wait in tense silence, not knowing where exactly this ‘Storybrooke’ is, how long it will take them to get there, or what to expect upon arrival.

Somewhere in New York, Emma had just stuffed the body of Neal Cassidy into an aluminum barrel and was now letting her vapor flood the inside, destroying his corpse. The smell was unbearable. It made her physically sick, but at least she didn’t have to see it. The lid was shielding her eyes from the unthinkable.

It took no more than five minutes for the Mage’s body to melt away into a sickening mess of boiled flesh and charred bone fragments. The toxic vapor ate through his skin and clothing, leaving behind something so vile— so nauseating— that even the Devil would find it wicked. Then, after sealing the lid and reforming her hand, Emma and Graham took the barrel to the city dump and buried it under a mountain of rusted cars, old parts, and other random junk.

“Alright,” she said quietly, “Let’s get this over with.”

Graham gave a small nod. “Of course.”

He pulled a lighter from his pocket and tossed the bloody carpet into another rusted barrel, setting it ablaze. Emma sped up the process with her vapor, which was so hot that it even seemed to melt the fire. They then dumped dirt into the barrel to snuff out the flames and set out for Storybrooke.

When they finally reached the small town three hours later, Emma texted her father to tell him they’d arrived. Graham also called Regina to inform her of this, and that the Swan family had come to Storybrooke as well.

 _“I know,”_ said the brunette, _“They’re at the armory. Go there and wait for me, Sheriff.”_

“Yes, Madame Mayor.”

Graham did as he was told, but neither he nor Emma stepped out of David’s car. He turned to her with a look of unease.

“Emma?”

The blonde didn’t meet his gaze. “Hm?”

“Regina will keep you safe.”

“So you say.”

“She will. I know she will. She’d do anything for you. You just have to give her another chance, Emma.”

Emma was quiet for a moment. “What if she doesn’t want to give _me_ a second chance?” she asked, “It’s like you said.” She finally turned and locked eyes with him. “I just started a war.”


	17. The Promise

_Emma was on her hands and knees, gasping and moaning wantonly as La Reina fucked her from behind with a long, black strap-on. She bit her lip, almost hard enough to draw blood, as she attempted to stifle a cry of pleasure._

_“No,” murmured the brunette, “Don’t hold back, Em-ma. Let me hear you. Show me what I do to you.”_

_Emma squeezed her eyes shut and threw her head back, crying out softly as the silicone cock hit that sweet-spot deep within her. She moaned when she felt the brunette’s lips meet the back of her neck._

_“Good girl,” rasped the Queen, “Do you want to come? Hm? Will you come for me, beautiful?”_

_Emma whimpered. “P-Please.”_

_La Reina nipped lightly at Emma’s ear. “Please, what?”_

_“Please, Reina, let me come. I need to come.”_

_“How close are you?” La Reina purred._

_“S-So close,” Emma breathed, “So_ fucking _close.”_

_The Queen brought a hand to Emma’s breast, giving it a firm squeeze. She pinched the blonde’s nipple and rolled it between her fingers, causing the younger woman’s back to arch._

_“Reina!” Emma gasped._

_“Mm, do you like that, my little Hellion?”_

_“Yes,” the blonde groaned, “I— I love it.”_

_“Wonderful,” the Queen husked._

_Without warning, she slammed into Emma as hard as she could, hitting that sweet-spot with such force that the blonde was left a writhing, quivering mess upon the bed. Emma cried out in ecstasy and her arms gave out, causing her to fall face-first onto the soft mattress as she reached her climax._

_“_ _I’m— oh_ **fuck!”** _she cried._

_“That’s my girl. Yes. Come for me, Emma. Come for your Queen.”_

_And like the good girl that she was, Emma obeyed. She screamed even louder as the brunette’s lithe fingers found her aching clit and began rubbing it at a harsh, rapid pace. A deep, shuddery moan escaped La Reina’s plush lips._

_“Say my name.”_

_Emma didn’t hesitate. **“Regina!”**_

_La Reina just smiled in satisfaction and continued to thrust into the beautiful young blonde, bringing her hand down hard onto that perfect ass, which drew a sharp cry from those rosy lips._

_“Do you like that, Em-ma?” she purred._

_“Yes, Reina,” rasped the blonde._

_The Queen gave a soft hum of approval. She proceeded to spank the young woman again and again until that pale ass was bright red, and Emma was convulsing beneath her, whimpering and moaning. She pulled away, earning a small whine from the blonde beauty, and turned Emma over to face her._

_“Look at me,” she murmured. Emma was quick to obey. This brought a smile to the Queen’s lips. “Good girl. Hook your legs around my waist, please.”_

_Again, Emma did so without question. La Reina put her hands on the blonde’s hips and continued her sensual rhythm. She leaned down and pressed her lips to Emma’s while they rocked together in ecstasy. She proceeded to kiss along the younger woman’s smooth jawline and suck gently at that beautiful neck._

_“God, you’re perfect,” she breathed, “How lucky I am to have you by my side, sweet Emma. I could not ask for a more perfect companion. It’s like we were made for each other. Tell me, my darling, will you stay with me? Will you be my girl?”_

_Emma whimpered. “Yes, Reina.”_

_“Would you do anything for me, as I would for you?”_

_The blonde’s dilated eyes were ablaze with desire. “Without hesitation,” she rasped, “my Queen.”_

Emma was suddenly pulled from her reverie as she heard a knock on the car window. She turned quickly to find herself face to face with none other than Regina. Her eyes widened and she turned to flee by scrambling into the backseat. She did so successfully, though at an awkward angle, and sighed in relief.

Her heart just about skipped a beat, however, when she heard someone clear their throat and slowly turned her head to find the Queen sitting in the backseat with her. She panicked and tried to get out, but the door was locked. She tensed when the brunette’s hand met her shoulder.

“Emma,” Regina said quietly, “Relax. I just want to talk.”

Emma stopped suddenly, unable to resist the urge to obey. She slumped down in the seat, folding her arms over her chest as her eyelids drooped.

“Look at me, Emma. Please?”

Again, the blonde could not fight against the Queen’s power. She met the older woman’s gaze with a look of unease.

“What do you want from me?” she whispered.

“I want to keep you safe, darling. You and your family.”

“Since when have you ever cared about my family?”

A faint smile graced the brunette’s lips. “Since I realized you were Henry’s birth-mother,” she said, “That means your family _is_ my family.”

Emma hugged herself tightly. “Have you spoken to them?”

Regina gave a small nod. “I have.”

“And how did that go?”

“Surprisingly well,” said the Queen. She was quiet for a moment. “Emma, you should come with me. Gold’s going to find out what happened to his son, one way or another, and he _will_ come after you. I can’t let that happen. Please, dear, let me take care of you. That’s all I ask.”

“Will you force me into things I don’t want to do?”

“No, Emma, unless it’s for your own good.”

“What the hell is _that_ supposed to mean?”

“If you try doing something foolish, then I _will_ stop you,” Regina told her, “but I want you to know that I never meant for things to be this way. Had your life not been in danger, I never would have sent Graham to find you.”

“Are you mad?” Emma asked quietly, sinking further down into the seat.

“I’m disappointed,” said Regina, “and I’m afraid, but I’m not mad. I could never stay mad at you, Emma. You were always my good girl. I hope that someday we can regain what was lost.”

“You want a relationship with me? Even after all this?”

 _“Especially_ after this,” said the Queen, “I love you, Emma.” She offered a hand to the apprehensive blonde. “Will you take my hand? The choice is yours, my darling.”

Emma eyed it warily for a moment before glancing back up at Regina. “Is it really?”

“Have I given you a command?”

“No,” Emma said quietly.

“Then yes, dear, you can make the choice for yourself this time. I will be more careful with my words.”

“You promise?”

Regina nodded. “I promise.”


	18. Dinner

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *M/M sexy-time at the end*

Emma walked quietly into the armory behind Regina. It was here that she spotted Ruby standing next to her parents. None of them seemed to notice her presence, so she took the opportunity to high-tail it to the bathroom. She was halfway there when Regina realized what she was trying to do and materialized in front of her, arms folded and a perfectly-arched eyebrow raised.

“Where do you think you’re going, Emma?”

“To the toilet,” Emma said quickly, “It was a long drive, and I have to pee.”

“I don’t think you’re being entirely honest with me,” said Regina.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I think you do. Why don’t you stay a while, dear?”

A haze clouded Emma’s mind. “O-Okay,” she said softly, “but, can I at least pee first? Please?”

“Of course, dear. Just don’t take too long, or I _will_ be coming in there.”

“Um, okay.”

Emma hurried to use the bathroom and wash her hands. It took her only two minutes. When she stepped out, Regina was leaning against the wall next to the door, giving her a knowing look.

“Come along, darling. You and I need to have a talk with your family. I want us to discuss this like rational, civil adults. Do you think you can do that?”

Emma hesitated. “…Maybe?”

Regina shot her a pointed look. _“Emma.”_

“Sorry. Yes, ma’am.”

Regina grimaced. “Don’t call me ‘ma’am.’ It makes me feel old.”

“Oh. I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright. Come with me.”

Regina walked alongside Emma towards the rest of the Swan family. She could sense the younger woman’s unease. “Try to relax, dear. This is for your own good.”

Emma just nodded, doing her best to obey. Her parents finally noticed her this time as she approached. They both looked concerned when they saw her.

“Emma, sweetheart,” her mother said, visibly distressed. There were unshed tears in her eyes. “Tell me it isn’t true. Tell me you didn’t murder Neal.”

Emma’s heart began to race, and her fists tightened. “I did,” she said, “and I would gladly do it all over again, if given the chance. He had to pay for what he did to me.”

“But you could have just brought him to the police,” said her mother, “You didn’t have to kill him.”

“When will you understand that yes, I _did_ have to kill him? He had to die. If I hadn’t killed him, he’d have killed me, or worse, the people who live in my old apartment! For all I know, he’s done this to a thousand other women who don’t have the means to defend themselves! Certainly not the way I do! You just don’t get it! I know you’d be on my side if something like that happened to _you,_ Mom!”

“I— I don’t—”

“Tell me you wouldn’t rip a man to pieces if he forced himself on you,” Emma challenged, “You can’t say it, because we both know you would.”

Her mother was fuming. “I would beat him bloody and let him rot in prison, but I wouldn’t kill him. Killing him would be too easy. Too lenient a punishment.”

“You might feel that way, but I did what had to be done,” said Emma, “and I don’t regret a second of it. If I could go back in time, I’d kill him again and again, and I’d be more ruthless each time!”

“Emma,” Regina warned, “You need to relax.”

The blonde’s mask of rage shifted to a look of peace. The others watched this with a mix of awe and apprehension.

“Emma?” asked Ruby, “You okay?”

“Yeah,” Emma said softly, “I’m fine.”

Ruby was visibly skeptical, glaring daggers at Regina. “What’d you do to her?”

“Simple. I told her to relax,” said the Queen, “and now she has.”

“It’s alright, Rubes,” said Emma, “I’m okay. I promise.”

“You look like you’re about to pass out,” said David.

“I’m just tired, is all. Don’t worry about it.” Emma turned and headed for the door.

“Emma, wait!” said Ruby, “Where are you going?”

“To take a nap.”

Emma was out the door before anyone could stop her. She went out to her father’s car and found Graham on the sidewalk, smoking a cigarette while speaking to Killian.

“I really wish you’d quit,” said Killian.

“I know, I’m sorry,” said Graham, “but it’s just hard, you know?”

“I’m going to buy you some nicotine patches from the drug store.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

Killian shook his head. “If I don’t get them, then you won’t, either.” He took the cigarette from the Sheriff’s mouth and stomped it out under his boot.

Graham smirked a bit. “That’s littering,” he said, “Don’t make me get out the cuffs.”

Killian grinned. “It looks like you’re going to have to punish me, officer.”

“Oh, I most certainly will.”

The two paused when they saw Emma trudging towards her father’s car with her head down. They looked at one another in confusion before turning back to her.

“Emma?” asked Graham, “What’s going on?”

“I’m tired,” Emma mumbled, “I’m taking a nap.”

She climbed into the backseat, closed the door, and laid down. Again, Graham and Killian exchanged a puzzled glance.

“You think Regina’s got something to do with it?” asked Killian.

Graham nodded. “Most likely.” He bent down and picked up the cigarette butt, tossing it in the trashcan nearby. He grinned at the dark-haired man. “Now then,” he said quietly, “I believe you expressed a desire to be put in cuffs?”

“I believe I did,” said Killian, “Want to ride on the Harley?”

“Of course.” Graham leaned in and pressed his lips to Killian’s ear. “But it’s not the _only_ thing I wish to ride.”

Emma awoke sometime later to the sound of Regina’s voice. The woman was sitting in the passenger seat, staring out the window. “Emma, we need to talk.”

“Huh? Oh. Right.”

“I’m glad you’re here,” said Regina, “In Storybrooke, I mean. I was hoping you would like to join Henry and I for dinner tonight. You and your family. I’ve asked them, but they said they wouldn’t come unless you were there with them.”

Emma was quiet for a moment. “Okay,” she said softly, “but no powers.”

Regina gave a small nod. “No powers.” She turned to look at Emma and smiled softly. “Dinner starts at six. Do try not to be late.”

The Swans arrived at the mayoral mansion several hours later, and upon ringing the doorbell, were greeted by a boy no older than ten.

“Hi,” he said timidly.

Emma just smiled at him halfheartedly, while her parents and Ruby gaped at him in wonder. The resemblance between him and Emma was striking.

David looked at his daughter expectantly. “Emma, is this…?”

Emma just nodded. “Guys, this is Henry,” she said, “Henry, this is Mom, Dad, and Ruby.”

“Hello,” said the boy, “Come in. Mom and I just finished setting the table.”

The four of them followed him inside and towards the dining room table. There were eight plates set out along with a smorgasbord of food. There was roasted chicken, salad, bruschetta, lasagna, and a plate of toasted ravioli. There was also a pitcher of ice-water and a bottle of fine wine. The delicious aromas combined and wafted through the air, making everyone’s mouth water.

“Hello, everyone,” said Regina, “Please, have a seat. Make yourselves at home.”

The family was immediately hit with the fog and did as they were told. Regina mentally scolded herself for being so careless. Still, she supposed there was no harm in being polite.

“This smells amazing,” Emma told her.

Regina smiled. “Thank you, dear.”

She took a seat at the head of the table, with Henry to her right and Emma to her left. David and Mary-Margaret were on the other side of Emma, while Ruby was sitting next to Henry.

“So,” Emma said, looking towards the two vacant seats, “Who else is coming?”

“I had planned on inviting Killian and Graham, but I couldn’t get a hold of either of them,” said Regina, “It’s strange, really. Those two would normally jump at the chance to enjoy my cooking.”

“Should we wait?” asked Emma.

“Let’s go ahead and eat,” said Regina, “If they wish to join us, they may do so on their own time. There is no need to wait on them.”

Everyone began piling food onto their plates. Emma was quick to notice that Henry was only choosing salad, ravioli, and bruschetta. Regina, in turn, saw where Emma was looking and took note of the confusion evident in the blonde’s eyes.

“Henry is a vegetarian,” she said, “He realized that pretty early on, once he discovered he could speak to animals.”

Emma’s parents were surprised by this. “Oh yeah?” asked David, “When did you figure that out?”

“When I was four, I think,” said Henry.

Regina smiled and nodded. “And he’s been begging me for a dog ever since.”

Everyone— save for Henry, of course— laughed. “Come on, let the boy have a dog,” said David, “I had one at his age.”

“Oh, believe me, I’d love to get him one,” said Regina, “but I’m allergic.”

“Well that’s too bad,” said David.

Emma stared at the chicken on her plate. “The chicken’s amazing, Regina,” she said, “but honestly, I feel kinda bad eating it in front of Henry.”

Henry just shrugged. “It’s okay,” he said, “I’ve never talked to a chicken before.”

Emma looked to Regina for confirmation. The brunette gave a small nod as she sipped her wine. Emma reluctantly continued to eat her chicken, though as she chewed, it occurred to her that she was no longer quite as hungry as she’d been before.

Regina seemed to sense the tension and tried to alleviate it by changing the subject. “Excuse me,” she said, getting up from the table, “I’m going to go check on dessert.”

She disappeared into the kitchen and checked on progress of the apple turnovers, just as she said she would, but she also picked up the phone and attempted to contact Graham once more. Just like the last three times she’d called, he didn’t pick up. She sighed and tried the same with Killian. Again, no answer. An even heavier sigh escaped her.

 _“Damn it,”_ she muttered, _“Where the hell are you?”_

Little did she know, the two men were over at Killian’s place, grunting and sweating together beneath the sheets. Graham was riding him ardently, groaning in pleasure.

“Bloody hell,” Killian grunted, “Come here.”

Graham leaned in and Killian grabbed him by the hair, pulling him into a rough, hungry kiss. When they pulled away, they were both left panting slow, heavy breaths.

“God, I love you,” rasped Killian.

Graham smiled softly. “And I you.” He took a moment to catch his breath and grabbed the handcuffs from the nightstand. “Now then, I do believe someone needs to be punished.”

Killian grinned. “Yes, Sheriff. Teach me a lesson.”


	19. No Matter the Cost

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay.

When Regina appeared outside the window of Killian’s houseboat, the last thing she expected to see was the raven-haired man blindfolded with a billy club halfway up his ass and his wrists cuffed behind his back. Graham was nowhere in sight, but Regina quickly turned away and rematerialized in her kitchen. Just as she did, the oven dinged, and the turnovers were done. She put on her mitts and pulled the tray out, setting it atop the stove, and began piling the pastries onto a plate.

“Who’s ready for dessert?” she asked with a forced smile as she returned to the dining room.

Everyone smiled.

“That smells great, Regina,” said Emma.

“Thank you, dear.” Regina set the plate down on a potholder. “Everyone help yourselves. I hope you all enjoy them.”

They all took a turnover, save for Regina, which Emma noticed right away. “Aren’t you going to eat one?” she asked.

Regina shook her head. “I’m not all that hungry anymore.”

The others ate their turnovers, and once finished, Regina looked to Emma with a hopeful gleam in her eyes. “Emma, if you are up for it, I would like to speak with you in private.”

“Uh, sure,” Emma said reluctantly.

“Wonderful. Let’s go into the kitchen,” said Regina. She felt her heart skip a beat when she saw Emma’s eyes glaze over. “I mean, if you want to,” she added quickly.

Emma blinked a bit, and her eyes became clear again. “Okay. I don’t mind.”

“Great.”

Emma followed Regina into the kitchen. “So, uh, what did you want to talk about?”

“Your role in all of this.”

The blonde stiffened. “That’s what you said when we first met. I swear to God, Regina, if you’re trying to drag me back into _that world,_ then you can just forget it.”

“No, Emma, it isn’t like that at all,” Regina insisted, “I wanted to talk to you about why I _really_ invited you here.”

Emma frowned a little. “Was it not to protect me?”

“Well, yes, but that isn’t the only reason. I also need you here to protect Henry. The Warlock is going to come after him now that the Mage is dead.”

“What? Why?”

“Because, I promised the Warlock that no harm would come to the Mage. He told me if I, or anyone associated with me went after his son, that he would hurt Henry. I don’t know if I will be able to stop him on my own. I need you, Emma. You and your family.”

“Why should I help you? Why should I trust you?” asked Emma, “How do I know this isn’t just one big ploy to drag me and my family into a world of evil? How do I know you’re not trying to make me the Hellion again?”

Regina sighed.

“I’m doing my best to keep my abilities in check, but I’m only human, Emma. I try to watch the things I say, but it isn’t always easy. I’ve done all that I can to give up my old ways. Unfortunately, no matter how hard I try, it’s never enough to get him to trust me. I figured if you and your family showed up, and if we could all just be civil under one roof, he would see that I’m not as bad as he thinks I am. I’m not perfect, Emma. I never claimed to be. I want a chance for forgiveness, not just from Henry, but from you, as well. I would like for all of us to be one big family. You, me, Henry, your sister, and of course, your parents. What do you say, Emma?”

Emma was quiet for a moment as she contemplated this. “Alright,” she said quietly, “I’ll help you.” She took a step towards Regina. “But if you so much as _think_ of using your powers against me or my family, or even Henry, then you had best _believe_ that I will do everything I can to stop you— no matter the cost.”

“I don’t want to hurt you, Emma. I love you. You have to believe me.”

“Oh, I believe you,” said Emma, “but it’s whether or not a really love you that’s the question. You see, all this time, I thought my choices and my actions were my own, but that’s the illusion of freewill. I wanted what we had because you _made me_ want it, Regina. At least, you made me think I did. Do you have any idea how that feels? _Do you?”_

Regina hung her head in shame. “No, Emma,” she murmured, “I don’t. I’m sorry.”

Emma placed a hand on the brunette’s shoulder, which got the woman to meet her gaze. “I believe you, Regina,” she said. A faint smile graced her lips. “I’ll help protect Henry. Just remember, if anything goes wrong, we’re going to have a serious problem on our hands.”

Regina gave a small nod. “I understand.”

The two were about to walk out of the kitchen, but paused when they overheard the conversation taking place with Henry, Ruby, and Emma’s parents.

“So, Henry,” said David, “can you read people’s minds, or is it just animals?”

“Just animals, I think. I’ve never heard another person’s thoughts before.”

“And what do the animals have to say?”

“I mostly talk to the stray cats and dogs around town,” said Henry, “The cats want to be fed and given shelter. The dogs want food, too, but they mostly want someone to play with.” He was quiet for a moment. “What do you do, Ruby?”

“I can turn into a wolf,” Ruby told him.

“I’m guessing a _red_ wolf?”

Ruby smiled. “Bingo.”

Henry looked to Mary-Margaret. “What about you?”

“I create snow and ice. That’s why I’m Red Frost.”

“And I make lightning,” said David, “I also have telekinesis.”

“That’s so cool,” said Henry, “Definitely way better than my stupid powers.”

“Your powers aren’t ‘stupid,’ dear,” said Mary-Margaret, “They make you unique. Special, even. You know what makes you even _more_ special?”

“What?”

“You were _born_ with your powers. None of us were.”

“She’s right,” said David, “We got ours from the Storm.”

“Like my mom?”

There was a moment of awkward silence, but Ruby was the one to speak up first. “That’s right,” said the brunette, “Just like your mom.”

Emma and Regina shared a faint smile as they locked eyes.

“It looks like things might work out, after all,” said the blonde.

Regina nodded in agreement. “Indeed it does.”

Meanwhile, in a dimly-lit house in the countryside, an old man was gripping his phone so hard that it broke in two. The line went dead, and he threw the crushed remains of the device onto the floor in rage. His eyes burned with hatred and primal fury. Somewhere behind him, a voice drew his attention.

_“What troubles you, brother?”_

The old man slowly turned to find himself face to face with his identical twin. “My son is dead,” he seethed.

“Are you certain?”

The old man’s fists tightened. “I am,” he said firmly, “My informant just relayed this to me.”

“Your informant?”

“Yes,” said the old man, _“The Huntsman.”_


	20. Enter the Dragon

Graham was out on the deck smoking a cigarette when Killian stepped outside.

“Graham? I thought you said you were quitting?”

“Sorry. It just helps me when I’m stressed.”

“Stressed? About what?”

Graham sighed. “Just, you know, _life,”_ he said as he took a drag.

“Why didn’t you tell me? I could’ve done something to help.”

A sad smile graced the Sheriff’s lips. “I’m sorry. I didn’t want you to worry about me, is all. I’m worrying about you enough as it is.”

“Well, you don’t have to worry anymore, either. I’m perfectly fine, love.”

Graham’s smile grew tight as he flicked his cigarette into the ocean, watching it sink with pain in his eyes. He’d betrayed everyone, but not without good reason. The Warlock and the Weaver had threatened to end Killian’s life if the Sheriff didn’t do as they said, and he wasn’t about to let anyone lay so much as a _finger_ on his lover. Still, the guilt was eating away at him like a cancer, but he knew he couldn’t tell anyone about this.

* * *

 

Meanwhile, Regina found herself overcome with a wave of nausea. She couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong. _Terribly_ wrong. She just couldn’t figure out what that ‘something’ was. For one reason or another, she found herself thinking back to the day she got her powers.

_She was just walking down the street, purse in hand, when suddenly, a bizarre storm came rolling in. It was unlike anything she had ever seen. She couldn’t look away no matter how hard she tried._

_The sky was red. The clouds were dark and circling like vultures. Within them, thunder roared and crimson lightning began to strike. She stared at the sky in utter horror, unable to run— unable to scream— as the lightning pierced her heart._

_She was thrown back violently by the sheer force of it all. She got the wind knocked out of her as her back struck the brick wall behind her, and she fell forward onto her hands and knees._

_A young man with an Irish accent came rushing up to her in alarm. “Ma’am! Are you alright?!” He helped her to her feet._

_“I— I’m not sure,” she told him, “I feel fine— physically, anyway. Did it hit you, too?”_

_The man shook his head. “No, ma’am.”_

_“What’s your name?” she asked him._

_“Killian,” said the man, “Killian Jones.”_

_“Regina Mills,” she said. She paused when she saw the wooden prosthetic in place of his left hand, and he seemed to notice her staring._

_“I lost it in the war,” he told her._

_“I’m sorry,” she said quickly, “I didn’t mean to stare.”_

_“It’s alright. I’m used to it.”_

_“So you were a soldier?”_

_Killian nodded. “Aye,” he said, “and before that, I was a boxer. Looks like I won’t be doing that anymore.” There was a sadness in his voice, and even more so in his eyes, yet he retained a faint, almost hopeful smile. “Is there anything I can do for you?”_

_“Just help me out of this God-awful storm.”_

_As Regina looked into Killian’s eyes, she was stunned to see them cloud over, and he did exactly as she asked. They walked into a nearby coffee shop, where an old man with a cane sat in the far corner, peering at them over the top of his newspaper. A smirk crept its way onto his lips._

* * *

 

Regina was standing in the foyer with her hands on her hips when the front door swung open, slamming violently into the wall. There before her— just as she had feared— was the Warlock. To say that he looked furious would be a sinful understatement.

“Where is he?” the old man hissed.

“We both know I’m not about to tell you that,” Regina said stoically, “Neither he nor I played any part in your son’s death. I did everything I could to uphold our agreement. Surely you know that. I would never do anything that would put my boy in danger. I’m not a fool.”

“Perhaps not,” said Gold, “but someone has to pay. Who will it be, Madame Mayor? You? Your son? Or the true culprit: _Emma Swan?”_

Regina swallowed. “I can’t let you hurt them,” she said, “Take me instead, if it really means _that_ _much_ to you.”

“Well,” said the old man, “that was _far_ easier than I expected.” He turned to the door, and a man with a face identical to his own appeared out of thin air.

Seeing this man left Regina petrified. _“Weaver,”_ she rasped.

* * *

 

Emma, Henry, and the Swan family were all down in the dark cavern beneath the seemingly-condemned town library. Emma couldn’t believe what she was seeing. There, staring down at her with piercing green eyes, was what she could only describe as a colossal dragon with obsidian scales.

“It’s— It’s a—”

“A dragon,” Henry said in wonder, “I _told you_ she was real.”

Emma blinked at him, dumbfounded. “She?”

_“The Black Dragon.”_

Emma’s gaze reverted to the gargantuan beast, and in that moment, it occurred to her just who this creature truly was. _“Mal,”_ she rasped, “How did you _get_ like this?”

The dragon bowed her head and snorted at Emma. _“Well, well, well. If it isn’t the Red Renegades, and the star of the show, the Red Spectre— or should I say,_ the Hellion?”

Emma’s heart sank.

* * *

 

Regina’s left eye was swollen shut and her lower lip was bleeding. She was on the ground in a fetal position, her wrists bound behind her back and her mouth gagged with cloth so as to keep her from giving commands. She tried to summon her dark portals, but each time she did, the Weaver just kept destroying them with his godlike powers.

“I can see the fear in your eyes,” said the Weaver, “I can even smell it. It’s coming off of you in waves.”

He drove his boot into her ribs, and a muffled cry of pain escaped her. He just grinned wickedly at her. There was a terrifying lust in his eyes. He was getting off on this.

The Warlock just stood in the background, looking mildly conflicted about the whole thing, but he did nothing to stop it. When his eyes locked with Regina’s, he was quick to avert his gaze.

“Don’t kill her, brother,” he said quietly, “We still need her.”

The Weaver stopped suddenly, and he slowly turned to look at the Warlock with rage and madness in his eyes. “Oh, I’m not going to kill her,” he said, “I’m going to do something much, _much_ worse.”


End file.
